Escape From the Harem

"I say, dear, Lord Braxton died," he said.

"That old goat; did he finally give himself a coronary while on top of that redhead?"

"It doesn't say things like that in the paper, dear." Indeed it didn't say many things about Lord Braxton. He had been one of the scape goats of Crimea and he was relieved of his post after the war. His wife had died, some whispered from the disgrace; though Cecil was more inclined to believe it was from her own thwarted ambition. In any event he had married Molly Malone, an Irish woman of no standing without waiting a customary year for mourning. Worse than that, he had adopted her three children and then she gave him another four. In every drawing room from that day on she had been "That red-headed slut," and he was a "Poor deluded old man." Today, though, she was a grieving widow and he was a respected citizen and statesman.

"You made love to his wife," said Jenny.

"It was before they were married," said Cecil, "And under the most peculiar of circumstances."

"In a boat on the sea, as I recall," said Jenny. "Do you ever think about her? When you climax within me do you ever think of her red haired quim?"

"Now dear you know I never think about any other woman other than you," he said, though perhaps a little too quickly. Jenny had indeed made him think about that day in the boat long ago.

"Is that a fact, Master Fitzwilliam," said Jenny imitating an Irish brogue. "And that nice stiff cock you have now did that come by imagining of your wife?"

Cecil was about to object but Jenny was already down on her knees unbuckling his pants. Even after all the years she knew how to arouse him perfectly. He rang the bell and the servants gathered the dishes swiftly. They were well aware of what would soon follow and desired to be far away. As the left Cecil backed up and had Jenny stand up and bend over the table. She grabbed the far ends as he raised up her skirts.

"Oh, Mr. Fitzwilliam, if that ain't the biggest cock that's ever filled me up," she mouthed as he plowed into her. He continued hard deep thrusts into her and reached up into her skirts to finger her clitoris. Jenny quickly became lost in her excitement and could do little but moan as Cecil continued eventually screaming out her own climax. Cecil followed soon after, shooting deep into her. As they finished Jenny looked up and saw her eldest daughter watching them. She winked at the girl.

"Mother, how could you?" she asked.

"You'll understand one day dear; but I do enjoy it immensely. You should have realized that, after all you do have nine siblings," replied Jenny as she stood up and smoothed out her skirt. Cecil hurriedly buttoned up his pants still behind his wife.

"I meant in your condition," she objected.

"Oh Mary," said Jenny running her hand over her protruding belly, "I can't get any more pregnant than this, so we may as well. Besides the best way to keep your husband from straying is to milk him dry." She turned around and winked at Cecil.

"Why, yes dear," Cecil turned bright red.

"A fine lot of good that did you with that bastard sister I have," objected Mary.

"I wish you wouldn't call Cecilia that," objected Cecil. She did nothing wrong and I had thought your mother was dead." Cecilia's mother had died, but Cecil had sent her to a convent in Venice to be raised. As far as she knew she was an orphan. He anonymously sent her a healthy stipend. By reputation she was one of the most virtuous women in all of Venice; she clearly didn't take after either of her parents.

"Fie," said Mary, "And I suppose the darkies are still coming today."

"Really, Mary, your comments are most common," objected Cecil.

"Yes, Mary and young Amal will be here later."

"At least Miss Mary is white but the daughter I can't stand. She has the dark heathen soul of a Turk," said Mary and she stormed out.

"Heathen soul," said Cecil as he shook his head.

"She's still young dear," replied Jenny. "Will you be going to the club?"

"Oh yes, rather," said Cecil and he grabbed his stick and cane and headed out. Cecil didn't enjoy the club. He found that what they said about luck in cards and women held true and with eleven children to his name he could hardly be expected to be lucky in love.

"Mr. Fitzwilliam," a gentleman called as Cecil closed the gate behind him.

"Mr. Dawkins," replied Cecil.

"Are you on the way to the club?" asked Mr. Dawkins.

"I should say, rather. The wife has some friends in from the old days and she wants me out."

"Women are like that, well mine's at sea you know," he said and put his finger up to his nose. Cecil was one of the few that knew that his wife was his old cabin boy and now captain herself. She still disguised herself as a man, and was said to be the most able captain in Mr. Dawkins fleet. He had bought a number of ships and had become a magnate.

Soon after Cecil left Mary and her daughter Amal were announced. Jenny and her eldest daughter were there to meet them; the other children were kept in the nursery.

"It's so nice to see you, Mary," said Jenny.

"I'm glad to have come, Miss," said Mary. "I guess I'm not supposed to call you that anymore, but old habits die hard.

"So they do," agreed Jenny.

"The Valde Sultana has sent you four more rugs."

"You've got to tell her to stop sending we've got enough for a whole house."

"Oh, you know Artemis. She says she owes you everything so she'll never stop."

"Why don't you run along," said Jenny noting the two girls.

"Yes mother," the young Mary said with a sigh and they went upstairs.

"Your room is delightful," noted Amal. It was everything she had imagined a princess's bedroom to be with a canopied bed and shell white furnishings. "Do you have tea and cakes here?

"No that's a special treat and we have those in the dining room," said Mary.

"How delightful it must be to be an English lady. Do you study poise?"

"Let's talk about something else," said Mary.

"Do you go to balls?"

"Sometimes."

"Are the men handsome?"

"Some, I guess, I usually end up dancing with my brothers."

"Oh well, in Turkey the sexes don't mingle. Have you ever seen a penis?"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, I know that is not proper conversation for a lady, but with so many men about it should be natural you'd see a man's thing. I have spied on some of our servants and seen some."

"I've caught my parents copulating," admitted Mary.

"That must be lovely."

"It's vile."

"I would not know, my father died when I was young. I have seen my mother's pleasure one another."

"Your mothers?" Mary sounded shocked, "But how?" It was vile that the darkie had two mothers in the first place; but pleasuring one another? That was beyond the pale. At least Mary told herself it was, yet it still sounded intriguing.

"Well," said Amal as she sat next to Mary, "First they kiss like this. Mary was going to object but the other girls lips felt so good, "And then they begin to fondle one another's breasts." Amal began to run her hands across the fabric of Mary's dress. "You have such firm breasts," she remarked. Mary felt a flood of strange urges course through her but more than anything wished to go back to kissing the other woman. Amal was a little surprised to see Mary so eager to return to kissing, but was more than willing to continue. She also felt the young woman's hands against her breasts, it was wonderfully exciting.

"I feel strange," said Mary after a few minutes. "Like there is something I need."

"You need fulfillment," said Amal, with a wink. "Have you ever pleasured yourself?"

"What? Of course not, that can make you insane."

"Can it?"

"That's what the doctor told me."

"Being without it makes me feel crazy," said Amal, "But I am hardly a doctor. In any event I know what you need." Amal moved behind Mary and began to unlace her dress.

"What if someone catches us?" hissed Mary as Amal quickly left her in her foundation garments.

"I'll make it all worthwhile," said Amal, continuing her work until Mary stood as naked as the day she was born. "You really are lovely," she said noting Mary's lithe frame and nipples the color of rosebuds.

"I feel ashamed," said Mary, realizing her own nudity.

"You should not be, you have such a wonderful body," said Amal and she began to attack Mary's nipples with her mouth. While she was doing so her hand began to snake down and work upon Mary's clitoris. Mary's objections quickly evaporated. "Come, let us lie down," said Amal and she led Mary by the hand to bed. She began tonguing Mary's moist womanhood, running her tongue up and down the groove of her sex. Mary felt an indescribable urge build up in her and then heard a distant wailing. She realized they were her own screams of pleasure. She lost control and continued to scream out in delight as her orgasm overwhelmed her.

"The girls seem to be having a nice time," said Jenny as they heard the noises from above.

"I suppose I should be disappointed, but I can't really tell her not to do that. After all Amal must know what her aunt and I do."

"Children always do. Soon Mary will need a husband of her own, but I don't suppose there's any harm in letting girls be girls for today."

"You always knew best," said Mary and the two women resumed their chat.