Androshorts: Lords and the Lady

When I looked at the shirt he'd worn the night before I could see from the powder and rouge on the collar and shoulder that it was most unlikely he'd been in the company of men the night before.

But this George was completely different, he let my hair free of its pins and curls and laid it across my shoulder, stroking and petting it and my face with equal measure. Next, he stepped behind me and undid the neck of my gown lifting it gently and letting it fall forward so I could slip my arms out of it. Finally, he lowered the garment down and I stepped out, in just my satin and lace undergarments.

He sat me down and kissed me again, moving his hands to my garters and rolling down and removing my stockings.

"Lay down Katie," he said with the most gentle and passionate words, and I did so. He quickly removed his uniform and lay it with great care, the care of a footman, over the nearby chair then day down on the bed we had shared platonically the night before, just in his drawers.

With my breath coming in gasps he kissed me again as he had moments before and I was more than ready for what ever he chose to do to me. He started to undo the tiny ivory buttons of my chemise, kissing from my mouth along my cheek then working his way down my neck, leaving a trail of light tantalising pecks down the slope of my chest to my large breasts and he noticed my sharp deep breath.

"Are you alright?" said my lover stopping his attentions and moving back to my rouged lips.

"George... the old one that is, well he used to be rather rough with my tits," I broke eye contact and looked down, "said my dark brown hair and hourglass figure made me look like a damned common dairy maid, not a titled lady..." I gave a light humourless chuckle, couldn't help it.

Once in my parents' garden, a seventeen-year-old George and his older brother Edmund smacked my recently shapely bottom, and when I stood to remonstrate they both looked me up and down and shook their heads and looking at each other just said the word, "trade..."

This was an insult and simply meant that my family had earned their 'new' money rather than just inheriting it and were further down the social scale than they.

What they didn't realise was my giant of a cousin, Ralph was stood behind them and dropped his huge meaty hands onto their shoulders. Ordinarily, the Chalonier boys would have ganged together and fought him but Ralph was wing-three-quarter for his house rugby team and was famous within immediate family for sending two rather aggressive players from Winchester College to the hospital wing in the same match in a manner as seemingly innocent as their attacks had appeared on him.

"Trade we may be Chalonier," she said bending down some distance to whisper in their ears, "but my father alone not including Katie's could buy your entire family, ancient coronet and all, three times over with just the money in his wallet and his pocket change." He thumped them on the back with a giggle, "Noble yet poor boys!" he shouted with an apologetic pout, "noble yet poor! Come, Katie," he laughed, letting that very real insult settle, "let's get back to our less noble but much grander unmortgaged family home."

But it remained one of George's favourite insults even while we were courting and after we were married. As far as he was concerned he had married beneath him.

I had big tits and my mother, several tailoresses and any number of maids had struggled to conceal or at least strap down. It was generally uncomfortable if occasionally painful and I'd hated the imposition of such clothes. But here they were and here he was staring down at them with real desire.

He kissed me again and smiled,

"They are just the most beautiful breasts it's ever been my pleasure to see," he smiled, "please, let me pay them the kind of attention they should have had from a lover."

I felt that I might turn inside out just with the wonderful smile he gave me. Returning it I pushed my large bust towards him and he slid down the bed slightly, gently cupping each and bringing his mouth level with my left nipple. I gasped as he gently took it into his mouth and I felt it erect against his tongue and felt the roughness of it as he sucked and licked around it with a practiced edge. It was wonderful. The loving look in his eye started a fire in the pit of my loins that I just knew my skilled lover would be able to quench.

He moved to my other breast for a similar extravaganza of wonderful feelings until I sighed at his letting go of both while he undid the final buttons holding my chemise in place.

After my tits had received just the most perfect attention, he rested on his elbows either side of my waist and smiled up at me as he lay between my legs. It was then that I realised he had slid down so his mouth was level with my puss.

"Darling Katie," he said, "The next part is by far the nicest and while it might come as a bit of shock, just lay back and enjoy!" His grin was soooo salacious that there and then I would have submitted to anything he wanted to do to me.

Such was my excitement that my legs drew up slightly, which George used as the perfect opportunity to take hold of my knickers and pull them down, and then taking my legs and putting them across his shoulders his mouth at my crotch!

He gave my puss a gentle lick swiping from the base of it up my labia to stop at my tiny clitoris, an organ that my husband had obviously been completely unaware of. But not this George, HEAVENS!!

As I sit here many years later and write what occurred I can still feel the same burn in my cheeks that I felt when first his tongue and then his fingers importuned my genitalia to such an extent that I felt my first ever orgasm. I lay back in the bed, my hands cradling his head, running my fingers through his hair, and not that I realised it until after, holding him in place and then pushing him down into my sex to keep him doing what he was doing. I know not how many times he took me to that place in paradise but it was some time later that I felt him slide up next to me, draw up the covers and pull me into the most wonderfully warm and satisfying cuddle. I slept like a log waking with George when he retrieved our nightwear so that the maid would not be shocked when they delivered our morning tea.

When they arrived I was sat up in bed just dressed with my nightgown still bunched at my waist, my glowing puss still giving the occasional gentle spasm as I remembered what my lover had done to me the night before.

The maid seemed to take forever, messing around and tidying away my gown and underwear from the night before and even hanging George's uniform on several hangers and putting them into his wardrobe.

"Thank you," he said to her with a smile.

"Welcome sir!" she squeaked, curtseyed and left.

George rolled out of bed and poured the tea, bringing my cup around to me, bending and handing it to me just as Daines the footman would have done, but he completed the most perfect moment by bending down to kiss me just as wonderfully as he had the night before and I kissed him back, still impressed when he slid his tongue into my mouth again.

"So was Madam impressed with my rather lacklustre performance last night?" He sat on the bed next to me with his cup in hand.

"Madam was extremely impressed George," I said, "in fact, if your going rate is a five pound note then I'll keep paying you until I'm in the workhouse."

"Oh well," he said, leaning down to kiss me, and running his fingers through my hair, "all for free when it's for you Darling Katie."

"Oh, George!" I gasped, kissing him back with equal vigour.

We dressed quickly and headed down for breakfast meeting up with the other guests all in a very jolly mood, if perhaps slightly the worse for the wines and spirits consumed the night before. Polly Gillingham looked around at us sat with our coffee and seemed somewhere between shocked and upset that her usual suitor didn't come and visit her in the night while Mrs. Joselyn appeared extremely well dressed but slightly late and in our seats in the drawing room George moved closer to me and I slipped an arm through his.

The older lady that had obviously been so well serviced by my late husband glowered at me and my new one and I returned it twice over, turning to kiss his cheek and looking back at her with such a powered stare that anyone within 100 yards would know that whatever undisclosed understanding might have previously existed was now very much off of the table, or wherever it might have taken place before, and if I had to fight for him I damn well would.

I looked back at George who smiled and kissed me back with a look I saw was all gratitude.

I pushed back a lock of his hair,

"I suppose you never had five pounds from her?"

"Goodness no," he said, "met her twice and she treated me like something from the sole of her shoe both times. Was far too busy fucking someone else so I understand."

"Darling George!" I said, hugging his arm kissing him this time.

Mrs. Joselyn was now at the terrines serving herself a substantial breakfast and doing a splendid job of pretending the couple across the room did not exist, while silent stares and nods went around the room, mostly from women to women and even I, the cause of the flurry of looks, could read what was not being said. I still believe it was something along the lines of 'did you see that mousey little thing that George Chalonier married? I don't think he'll be running from bedroom to bedroom anymore that's for sure!'

There was a shooting party that morning but with George's shoulder damage he was able to give his very real apologies with little resistance from the other men and after a very pleasant tour of the sitting rooms and lunch, where Poppy Gillingham came across to us with her husband Cecil and chatted to us both, trying on two occasions to get quite handsy with George who ignored her and the two times she tried to whisper to him. I found a note tucked into his uniform jacket the next day telling how much she had missed their little 'moments together' and how she was looking forward to more.

We were driven back to the station and soon back into London by the express train and a hackney back to our house. We had sat quite close on the trip out, on the trip back we were arm in arm the whole time and just gazing at each other like star-crossed lovers. It was one of the most wonderful times of my life and I can still recall those looks, those smiles, those silly one-off, two people moments that happen from time to time.

We had dinner and went to bed and George pulled me close and kissed me, gently caressing all of those places he'd already touched but so softly and passionately that I was groaning and gasping for the same kind of orgasmic relief that I'd felt the night before.

The night before had been a kind of champagne-fuelled lust, after his discussions about how he'd pleased his other women. But tonight in the candle-lit warmth of what I now considered OUR bedroom it was love, nothing else, and he brought me to orgasm with just his fingers, and as I pulled him close I could feel his erection pressing against my thigh.

"Can you..." I gasped as I came down from my peak, "rather WOULD you make love to me George?"

"Not yet Darling Katie," he said with a smile, "if I do and I split my freshly healed wounds, Clements will beat the life out of me!" he giggled for the first time and it was lovely, "Then she'll probably come back for you."

I pushed him onto his back and rolled against him on my side.

"Can I help you with... this?" I said with my most cheeky smile, at the same time laying my hand on his hard cock.

"Depends on what you want to do with it?" He said.

Now my late husband George had spoken of what he wanted me to do to him and what he had some of his other women do for him. The fact that he'd used my 'never having done that kind of thing' as a form of denigrating abuse to me, the woman expected to be a virgin on her wedding night, made me never want to do it to him - ever.

But laying naked in bed with this lovely, lovely man who actually appreciated me and cared about me made we want to consider it all again.

I put my hand in his,

"Show me what to do..." I whispered, kissing a line from his lips to his ear, following the line of the shrapnel scar.

He placed my hand on his cock and a took it gently, and so very, very slowly he moved my hand up and down, up and down wanking him, speeding up as he let go of my hand and allowed me to try it myself.

I kissed him again, delighting in the changing look on his face as he became more and more appreciative of my efforts,

"Faster Darling?" I hissed.

"Yes please," he gasped back, the look on his face letting me know that I was doing just fine.

Sex was something that husband George did to me, while new George was showing me that sex was something that a man and a woman did together! I will confess that it was with some great shock that moments after he had hissed "keep going, don't stop!" I watched the eye at the top of his penis open slightly and long white spurts of his semen shoot out across his stomach landing as far up as his chest. He cried out at each jet shot from him and I carried on pumping for all I was worth, intent that he was going to get all of the joy that he had given to me.

He did and we lay together for minutes after, both shocked, stunned but extremely pleased with what had passed between us that night.

December came and I was bought another new gown to go to Buckingham Palace with my wounded hero husband to watch as the King clipped his Military Cross to his jacket and thanked him for 'holding the line' in the finest traditions of the British Army. His proud father took us out to dinner to celebrate and I noticed the strangest thing, new George was working his magic on his father as he did with everyone else; Fair enough his Father wasn't actually talking to who he thought he was but there was a new closeness I had certainly never seen before and it was a pleasure to watch.

He invited us both out to Chalonier Hall for a few days promising to bring out Clements for what he believed would be her very final visits and George's recovery.

Two weeks before Christmas we packed our clothes and our necessaries and headed out to the Hall and a long Christmas break.

On our second morning, Lord Charles' real reason for inviting us out became clear. Clements massaged George and talked him through the next set of exercises that the Doctor had prescribed for him.

"You'll not get the same kind of movement you had before Captain George," she cautioned him, "But follow my rules and we'll get you as much back as we can."

I was stood in the background hovering and watching what was going on.

"Mrs. Clements?" I said. "Is there any massage like this that I can do that would help?"

Clements smiled, I guess because she was a married lady herself and could perhaps catch the look in my eye that I wanted to do more than just massage my man and there were some very specific movements that I was keen to ensure he was capable of.

"You can get dressed now Captain George," she said with a smile, "Come with me Lady Katherine and I tell you." She led me gently by the hand and into the upstairs hall. I wasn't quite sure what to expect from her, I feared a telling off and her insistence that George be allowed to recover slowly and I should control my baser instincts. Not at all.

"Lady Katherine!" she said with the biggest smile and taking both of my hands, "Lord Charles has already asked me if the Captain would be able to... err... shall we say 'fulfill his duty to the family' and I can honestly say that I can see no reason why he can't." She looked around and whispered to me, "Do I guess right that so far you two haven't... aahh... checked to see if it all works?"

I grinned, my face flushing the brightest red,

"Well... not in the mechanical sense," I giggled, "I think it's fair to say that we've both checked out everything manually and had a dry run as it where..." I realised that nothing we did was dry!

Clements giggled,

"And did everything work?" she smiled, "Satisfactorily?"

"Oh yes!" I said, "It was all very... successful!"

"Oh Lady Katherine!" she giggled, she stepped closer to the window and looked down into the garden where George was walking in the garden with his father and who was pointing across the landscape to where the dairy farm was, the stables, the mill, the oast house and brewery, the kennels and far across to the fruit orchards.

I was to find out later that his father, conscious of the new spirit of friendship between two previous antagonists, was discussing how his son might like to spend a few weeks at the hall after Christmas and get to grips with the estate that had really been suffering since the departure and subsequent death of his two older brothers that had previously run the place.

I watched as George shook hands with his father, with big smiles from both of them.

"Have they always been close?" said Clements watching the scene as was I.

"Not really," I said in all honesty, I couldn't really say, 'Lord Charles raped his mother then abandoned them both'.

"Good to see that after all of the pain and anguish things seem to be coming together for both of them."

"Yes," I said wiping a single tear.

"Now then Lady Katherine," said Clements with arms folded in a most business-like manner, "I know that Lord Charles is keen to have heirs to leave his estate to, and... well, you and Captain George are it." I nodded, "Having seen your husband's scars I'm happy, assuming that the pair of you take it easy for a while, that you can... shall we say, resume... conjugal relations?"

"I promise we'll take it easy Mrs Clements," I said, my heart all aflutter.

"Good girl," she said with a knowing smile and seeing my beaming face, pulled me into a hug. I was so taken with this that I squeezed her tight and chuckled, "Your husband came into my care on September 24th -- I think it might be rather nice that you give him your very special Christmas Present on December 24th, three months recovery should be enough for anyone." She smiled a quite rude smile, "you might need to do most of the work, Katie," said Clements using my first name for the first time, "having watched him in his sleep and nature taking its course as it does in the night, I know that everything seems to be in working order."

"And any advice for when we finally want to start our family?"

"Darling girl!" said Clements putting a hand on my cheek, "love each other Katie, just love each other, pregnancy will come along if you love each enough, trust me." She leaned forward and kissed my cheek and went on her way.

I heard later that Lord Charles settled a small pension on Nurse Clements and she was on hand for other matters later.

Two nights before Christmas the snow fell and Chalonier Hall was perfectly dressed for the season, and George had arranged something a bit special on Christmas eve. He'd gone to the local school and asked the children to come to the hall for the end of the school day and sing carols. I'd witnessed such celebrations before at other grand Christmas houses and this was by far the nicest.

He'd ranged the children on the steps in the grand hall, and brought out Lord Charles, and various house guests who were staying for the holiday and all the staff he could find, a few of whom were watching their own children. They sang 'God rest ye merry gentlemen', 'while shepherds watched their flocks' and finished with 'away in a manger'. It was delightful.

The staff brought out mugs of hot chocolate, hotcakes, toffee apples and various other treats that George made sure were shared out widely and until the children couldn't eat anymore, and each was given a small gift, with a few for the younger brothers and sisters that couldn't be there to celebrate, and through the whole thing he just had the biggest smile across his damaged but recovering face.