Further Adventures of the Maid Ch. 03bychristinamonroe©
Victoria steeled herself for dinner. She had readied herself carefully, her lady's maid dressing her hair, carefully piling up golden ringlets so that they fell artfully around her face, framing her delicate features beautifully. Her dress was of finest silk, pale rose pink in colour, chosen to highlight her creamy complexion. The bodice wasn't as low-cut as she would have liked; the fashion in London had been for necklines that skimmed the crest of the bosom, showing a hint of cleavage with the promise of earthly delights contained therein, but the Baroness had declared that these were an abomination. Victoria's dress was more modest, but she pulled the neckline down as far as she was able, enough to just suggest the swell of her bosom. She fastened large ruby earrings to her ears, and her maid lowered a ruby pendant around her neck, the jewel falling to nestle between her breasts.
She wasn't allowed cosmetics: her mother forbade them as sinful, but she bit her lips and rubbed her cheeks until they glowed pinkly. Pouting in the mirror, she decided that she was beautiful, and, spinning on her heel, she made her way to dinner. She was a little confused as to why her preparations had been so careful and prolonged. It certainly wasn't for that awful man that her father insisted was a gentleman. No gentleman would have abused a lady so, and she looked forward to telling him that if the occasion arose.
The family had gathered in the informal sitting room before dinner. Both men were drinking whiskey, and Victoria realised that her father looked more contented than she had seen him since her arrival home. Thomas was looking into the fire, his face distant, but he stood up gallantly on her arrival and bowed low, nodding his head in appreciation of her beauty. She curtsied prettily, and sat beside her mother on the sofa. The Baroness was dressed in her usual dove-grey satin, the high neck of her gown ruffled with stiff lace, her only adornment a pair of plain gold earrings.
They made their way to the dining room, Thomas escorting the Baroness, Phillip, his daughter. He was acutely aware of her, of her slim thigh brushing his as they walked, and the scent of her youthful body, and made a deliberate attempt to dismiss these thoughts from his mind.
To Phillip's dismay, Thomas had obviously been having similar thoughts. He was unfailing in his attention towards the young woman, directing comments to her throughout dinner, asking her opinion in matters of importance. She was delighted to be flattered in this way, and her light laughter rang out again and again through the room. The Baroness, surprisingly, did not mind the obvious flirtation going on. As far as she was concerned, an older man would suit her daughter: the Baron and she had been married when very young and his attentions had swiftly wandered. Embittered, she had tried to protect her daughter from the attentions of the young men clustering around her when they had sojourned in London for fear that she would be treated in the same way.
After dinner, the ladies left the gentlemen to their port and cigars, and retired to the sitting room. Phillip dismissed the servants, and they settled again in the Billiard room.
Thomas had plans for Victoria, but decided that these were best kept to himself: he knew that she was a virgin, as tightly guarded as the crown jewels, and that he must behave himself initially if he was to get anywhere. Still, he enjoyed a challenge, and the taking of a maidenhead was the best challenge he knew of.
The next day, he invited Victoria for a turn on the terrace, offering his arm to escort her to admire the flowers of the formal gardens. Relentlessly he pursued her, his entire bearing that of a gentleman until she had changed her opinion of him and looked forward to his company. Phillip was powerless: his wife had welcomed the attachment, but he could not oppose the courtship because to do so would have run the risk of exposing his dalliance with Thomas. To make matters worse, Phillip and Thomas were still entangled. Both were increasingly frustrated sexually: Thomas as a result of Victoria's maidenly behaviour, Phillip because he had no other outlet. As the days passed, their behaviour became reckless: they took to riding frequently, their hands tearing at each other britches almost before they had dismounted. There was a spot in the wood a short ride from the house where they had frequently stopped. It was a clearing in the wood, surrounded by oak trees, the summer undergrowth dense. There was a fallen oak there, the perfect height for one of them to stretch over, and for the other to claim him. Phillip felt particularly at home there, and the sensation that Mary was nearby was very strong. He realised after the first time that he and Thomas had fucked there that this was were he had covertly watched Mary and Jack. The image of Jack pushing his cock into Mary's dark entrance blazed across his eyes, and he had begged Thomas to fuck him. The two men didn't even take the time to undress, but simply unfastened their britches, their cocks already hardening in anticipation.
Thomas knelt behind his friend who was leaning over the oak log like a sacrificial offering. He laid his hands on the taut muscular buttocks, massaging deeply with his strong fingers, and exposed Phillips cleft. The dark, shadowed ring lay there, nestled deeply, a prize to be taken. Thomas reached forward, and touched, just with the tip of a finger. Slowly he began to press, and his finger slipped inside, feeling the muscles clench around it, sucking it into the warmth within. With his other hand, he reached between Phillips legs for his cock, warm and strong. Slowly at first, he started to massage the walls of Phillip's entrance, feeling the tight muscle relax slowly. His finger was buried in him up to the second knuckle, and he tried to get in deeper and deeper. He heard Phillip breathe in sharply, and felt the man's cock harden further under his skilful fingers, stiff and taut. Suddenly, Thomas had an urge to press his mouth to Phillip's tight ring, wanting to lick and probe. He leant forward, and placed his mouth over him, inhaling the musky scent and putting his tongue to work immediately, teasing him by gently licking and probing his anus.
Thomas's other hand was slowly sliding up and down the hard shaft of Phillip's cock, pulling gently on his foreskin and Thomas could feel him begin to ooze. He knew then that Phillip wanted this, and started to work his tongue in deeper. His tongue slid up and down the musty cleft, licking at the under surface of Phillips scrotum, stimulating the sensitive skin there. Thomas's own cock was firm and rigid, the hard iron needing release, and he withdrew his fingers and tongue. Forcing the muscular cheeks apart, his hands sticky with Phillip's pre-come, he placed the tip of his cock against him, feeling the pressure and the resistance as he slowly pushed. Phillip was closed up tight at first, but Thomas persevered, and soon Phillip's ring slowly dilated. Thomas could feel Phillip shudder underneath him, and knew that he wanted this: he wanted to be taken like this, to be fucked like a woman until Thomas pumped his hot oily seed inside him.
He felt Phillip give way; his resistance broken down, and relished the sensation of his cock tightly gripped in the other man. Phillip had shifted position slightly, and he was stroking his own cock vigorously as Thomas fucked deeply into him.
The men rocked together, lost together in the rhythms of their fucking. Thomas was riding Phillip strongly now, pumping deeply into him, and Phillip's mind was full of images of Mary, of watching her being taken like this, remembering her glazed look of lust as she had watched the two men together for the first time. He imagined that it was her hand on his cock, caressing his balls, rubbing her soft fingers over the tip. He imagined that he was pushing his cock into her mouth, her throat accepting his offering, taking him deeply, wanting more of him and begging him to do as he wanted with her. Overwhelmed by these images, he erupted, his seed bursting from him, splattering the old oak with a film of white juice. His muscles spasmed, and gripped Thomas's cock tightly, milking him. Within a few more thrusts, Thomas had also released his load, grinding his pelvis against Phillip. Thomas groaned: his mind had been full of images of Victoria; her pert white buttocks raised for him, her warm sex his for the taking. He had to have her: it would be interesting to see if the family's strong sexual desires ran truly in her.
Sated, both men hurriedly redressed. Their horses had been tethered at the edge of the clearing, and they remounted, riding slowly back to the House.
Victoria had been doing embroidery in the sunroom, her needle flashing as she worked on her pattern of tea roses. She looked up as the men came into the room, and Thomas noted the smile lighting her eyes, and the unconscious licking of her lips. She wanted him, whether she knew it or not, and he was going to take her.
To be continued...