Lady Lovecome's Diaries: 04

Bill squeezed his cock and balls. "Uhm. Perhaps I should?" He flapped at his meat. I'd never seen him do this. With me he was always hard. Or spent. This gave me a flush of pride, then a dip of sadness.

"Oh oui..." Gabrielle chuckled and swung a foot as she watched him tug at himself. "Life sometimes, it is just too sexy. N'est pas?"

But aside from a general thickening and blushing, his member refused to rouse.

My heart burst. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad. Then I clocked the super-hard dildo on my dressing table and braced myself. Something, or someone, got him rigid.

Of course, Gabrielle dropped to her knees, setting her face at his hips and close to the screen. She winked at the camera, at me, then swung dollish eyes up at Bill. "Oh well, I suppose I will just have too..." She opened her mouth and ducked to collect him between her lips.

A whimper left mine.

Then Gabrielle sprang into the air. No, not sprang. Lifted. Bill had picked her up.

"No, Miss Gabrielle." He plonked her at arms reach. "I thought this might be an issue." He rummaged in his discarded trousers and pulled out a familiar, leather-bound notebook. My diary! "Perhaps you might read this for me?"

Gabrielle could hardly speak for pouting. She opened the pages, her flush deepened. "Fuck..." She flipped through. Giggled. "Fuck, my friend is dirty..."

I flushed too. Squirming inside at the thought of my secrets being laid bare. Then I remembered, I wrote it to torture my father anyway, and he'd even shared it with his rentboy. I was always reading it out to Bill too. So why not let Gabrielle read it too? She was in half of it anyway.

Bill mumbled the same sentiments to Gabrielle, who I am certain, was looking for mentions of herself.

Perhaps she found something then because she went quiet. Her eyes widened at a page, then peered, then welled up. I had nothing to fear, I'd only ever expressed adoration for Gabrielle. Which is what made this betrayal sting so. "Oh, how I adore that girl," she whispered, then swung her hips and winced at the sensation, presumably something to do with her underwear. "Too sexy. My poor panties. Monsieur, I must remove them."

"I'd rather you didn't, Miss."

She tutted, reached up her -- my! -- dress, and wriggled her knickers down. She grabbed one of Bill's great paws and stuffed the little white garment into his fist. "See what you do to me?"

Bill cleared his throat, shook the knickers out, then neatly folded them and put them on the bench. He wiped his hand on his bare buttock.

Gabrielle snorted. "I will read for you, then, to get you hard..." she cupped his balls lightly and he flinched. She stamped her foot, quivering her unfettered bottom under the dress. "Bill you must let me touch you or how are we to make the cast?"

She explained how she'd need to wrap plaster-soaked strips around his phallus, smoothing out bubbles as she went. Bill cleared his throat again and nodded. "But no more," he said.

Gabrielle picked up my diary and read the section about, "Three Bells for Belle". Remember, the time Bill spread me on a chesterfield and licked me while I read the story to him? Or tried to. No doubt Gabrielle was hoping to put the notion in his head to repeat that performance on her.

But it certainly had an effect. My words bounced him almost immediately erect. Her sweet, husky little voice and her thick French accent didn't do any harm either.

He wasn't as bustingly hard as the dildo they made, but it seemed enough to spring Gabrielle to action. She grabbed a jar, scooped out some ointment and made to apply it to Bill's bucking meat. He twisted away. "What's this?"

"It is to protect your sensitive skin. I work quickly, and use a special plaster, but it can still burn a little." She reached for his cock again. He swiped the cream off her fingers and covered his erection, working vigorously to keep himself hard. I had to cross my legs. I salivated at both ends! Diary, I adore Bill's penis, what can I do? It's like an addiction.

Gabrielle knelt before him again, this time reaching under the bench and lifting a dripping white strip of fabric. She dangled it over his erection and flopped one end on the base of his shaft. She wrapped it round. "Is not too cold?" she said breathily, working carefully, pressing the strip to his skin and smoothing it dead flat as she worked. Her tongue was caught between her teeth.

"It's fine," he said.

She cast a gaze up at him and dimpled a smile. "You like me doing this, hmm?"

He didn't answer. I think he'd closed his eyes.

She wrapped him from base to tip, and he started sagging. Was that the weight of the plaster or was he losing his erection?

"Perhaps you might read again for me, Miss Gabrielle?" I grinned when he said this. Even my friend at her flirty best couldn't keep him hard. My words were more arousing to this man than a woman like Gabrielle lovingly stroking his cock.

She growled, perhaps thinking the same. "No, I cannot read and work. You read your lady porn yourself."

Bill opened my notebook and, as if by magic, nudged rigid again.

Gabrielle whistled. "That worked. Which bit are you reading?"

Bill took a breath, as if computing whether it was OK to answer, then reported in his bassy whisper: "Lady Bathsheba described how, alone once in her room, she squatted over a hand mirror, pretending it was my face. She ah... she dripped on it. Rather a lot."

Gabrielle laughed throatily, "You really like eating her, non?"

"Very much."

She wrapped another band around his erection, smoothed it. Hummed. "I thought you liked to taste her, when the three of us, we had sex together. You liked this too? Us three together?"

"I liked that Lady Bathsheba liked it."

"I think for a fact you liked it too. You came many times."

Bill didn't answer.

"Read me a bit, monsieur. From the three-of-us part. Let's see how indifferent you are."

Bill flipped pages and read about our first threeway together, on the terrace in the sun. I was crouched on his mouth while Gabrielle dropped her skirt over my head so I could lick her.

He stopped reading after I'd described our orgasms, and she rolled her hand for him to continue. When he got to the part where she sat naked on his face while I watched, her wrapping fingers trembled.

"You have a world-class tongue, Bill." She spoke to his penis, working her winding way round it. "And what happened after this? After I came on your mouth? While Bash watched and sucked you?"

"You know what happened."

"Read it to me."

I didn't like how rigid he looked now. It seemed he was enjoying this strange once-removed sex with her. He turned the page and read my description of us riding both ends of him, Bill fucking her while he licked me. It was safe enough, I suppose, I mean we had actually done that, and very much enjoyed it, but it felt wrong, like they were getting off on each other all over again, but this time without me. Was this it then? What got him so quiveringly hard?

But no. He softened.

Gabrielled cursed. "No, no, no. Don't go limp now, what is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry. It just feels wrong. Even just talking about... it. With you."

"Fucker! You know you are lucky, being here now with me! Men fight over me! One travelled the world for one hour with me! Another, when I was naked for him, he was so intimidated by my beauty he couldn't harden, yet so excited he came anyway!"

"You are exquisite Miss Gabrielle, that's not the point."

"Don't patronise me."

"I do.. desire you. How could I not? After all we've done together. With Lady Bathsheba."

"So, prove it! Prove it in stiff flesh for me."

"It's not so simple, Miss. My fear of hurting Lady Bathsheba is just greater than my desire for you. Even though she's not here."

"My God. You are desperately in love with her, aren't you?"

Bill didn't say a word. He cleared his throat, then cleared it again and took a shaky breath. Pages turned and he read another passage about me sixty-nining him in the conservatory, His dick hardened.

Gabrielle finished her wrap and smoothed it all over one more time with both hands and a lascivious giggle. She washed up, shouting over her shoulder, "Now you must stay hard just for a few minutes."

She took the book off him and sat in an armchair to read my words in her sultry accent. She told my stories with her knees together and raised, her feet propped on the seat, and twisted at the ankle to display her glistening, puckered sex. Perhaps this way she could believe he was aroused by her, while I was sure it was my words exciting him. His eyes seemed closed. Mostly. Mine weren't. They drilled into Gabrielle's sweet cunt, watching her drip between her bottom cheeks. I imagined scooping that lovely stuff on my tongue, swathing it over her clit. I don't know how Bill resisted. He is far stronger than I.

After a few minutes, she gently took the mould off him, and I presumed they were done. So did he. He grabbed his shorts and stepped into them.

"No darling, wait! One more for luck." Gabrielle grabbed an airtight container. "I need to make a safety mould. Those plaster ones, they never work. So I always use alginate too. It is quicker, just ninety seconds, and much more detailed. Works every time."

"So why..." Bill sighed hard. "Why bother with the plaster?"

Gabrielle pouted a shrug. "It is sexy." She shook the canister, biting her lip at his erection. "It is even harder down there now, anyway, non? Shame to waste it. Bon. I mix warm water with powder in here, you put your meat in, and take it out, et voila!"

She put the canister on the floor, stirring the sludge inside it briskly. "OK, you do a press-up over this, lower your cock into it, like into a woman, then absolutely do not move until I say you can, you can do this? Quick, go, go."

Bill dropped onto his hands, and lowered himself into the tube of gunk.

Gabrielle squeaked. "Bon! Do not move! I read for you!

My cheekster friend of course had it all mapped out. Bill's braced position put his head right in front of her armchair. With a fluidity that suggested she'd practised this, she jumped into her chair, shuffled her bottom to the edge of the seat, flopped back and looped her legs over the chair arms. Her mound was so close to my man's head she could probably feel his breath. Her lips slowly petalled open under him and he turned his head from the explicit spread. She grasped him back in place. "No! Still! Be still!"

Chuckling, and kicking excitedly, she picked up my diary. She read from a part where she'd sat on Bill's cock, reverse cowboy I believe they call it, and I knelt between their legs, licking them both. While she read, she toyed with her flushed folds. Bill strained, eyes shut, but with his ears no doubt full of her sloppy sounds and panting. His muscles tensed in the prolonged push-up, his naked buttocks quivered.

"Miss Gabrielle, two minutes has passed, I--"

"Shush!" Gabrielle got to the part where she and I finally sucked Bill off, fighting over his eruption. Bill groaned. Gabrielle squirmed and shoved my notebook between her legs, rubbing her clit hard with it, coming on my pages, on my handwriting, cackling like a witch.

She was still crimson and sliding my diary around her cunt, when Bill stood from his task and dressed.

"Thank you Miss Gabrielle," he said, shovelling his still hard cock into his boxers. "Lady Bathsheba will be delighted."

"Can't you see how I drip for you?" Gabrielle fanned her sex with my notebook, and slid two fingers into her podgy cunt as if scratching an itch. "It is a shame to waste it. And a shame to waste your hardness too I think."

"It won't go to waste." He put out his hand for my diary.

"Fuck me, Bill." Gabrielle tossed my diary, pulled her feet apart and back, and spread her lips. "Please."

"No, Miss." He collected my notebook and left the frame.

She made a sharp squealing kind of growl and flapped her feet. The door shut behind him.

Gabrielle swore and clamped her thighs over her hands, then smacked her puffy mound as if telling it off, and came back to the screen.

"So, you lucky bitch. I guess you'll get the joy of that cock this afternoon. I'd like to say it was my doing but, it was all you." She sucked her fingers, sighed. "Sweetie, be careful though. He properly loves you, and this cannot be. You have duties. You know this. Today, if he fucked me, that was the desirable outcome, oui? Because then he was just a good fun fuck, or lick, and maybe you could have been together even if you were married, just for the fabulous sex, and no one would be hurt. Like you and me? But now..." She grimaced. "Be careful, sexy lady. This is not the husband you need." The screen went black.

#

Diary I only got this video after I'd slotted the pages describing my shameless orgy under Bill's door.

And, shit, he loves me.

I think we might have said this to each other, or I probably had, but only in the heat of the moment, not in a way that counted. I mean we say we want to eat each other too, all the time, but we never actually go cannibal. This was this serious kind of love. The kind that quietly, inextricably binds.

And I'd blown it, throwing my supposed sexual freedom in his face. Worse, I'd probably broken the heart of the person I cared about most in the world.

But maybe that was a good thing. We could not be together, not just because so much was expected of me, but for Bill's own safety. Father had threatened to kill him if he swayed me from my familial duties. Perhaps we needed to finish this. Rip off the bandaid. Perhaps I should let him go.

Diary, the dawn is rising. I'll go to him now.

#

So as I walked across the dewy grass in naught but my bathrobe that chilly morning, heading for the gatehouse Bill lived in, I had a grownup plan. I would apologise for rubbing his nose in my shit with that diary entry, but then lay it on the line. We were getting too close. I cared too much. He should leave.

But the morning sun was spilling gold all over the place, and as I found the open window I always used to sneak into his bedroom, the gold piped in there too. It gilded my beautiful man asleep in his bed, naked on his covers, on his back, his cock half-hard and nodding and squirming in dreams of its own.

I'd intended to use the front door for once, like a responsible adult, but found myself mesmerised by his rod and climbing in through his window again. I leaned over Bill's sweet penis and told myself, one last time. Then it was warm against my lips, then warm against my tongue, and then warm in my mouth. It wasn't until it was clenching against my palette that I checked Bill's other end, to find pale green eyes sparkling down at me.

"Morning, Ma'am," he said.

He seemed happy. Had he not read the diary yet? That was something, but it didn't change what I needed to do. I shrugged off my bathrobe and climbed into bed with him. Not beside him, but wedging between his legs so I could keep sucking.

I didn't say a word, just gazed at my gorgeous man and sucked and rubbed. One last time.

He made a ragged, growling sigh. "Careful, Ma'am. I'll come."

I rolled my eyes at him, as if to say, "Isn't that the point?" and rubbed him faster. He stroked my hair. His eyes filled mine so I had to shut them, for fear they'd leak. I clogged the lump in my throat with his hard end. His legs shook beside me.

"Ma'am," he blurted. I drew harder on him. He shuddered violently, as if still trying to hold back.

"Mmm!" I said. "Mmm!"

He shoved up at my face and shot his hot, salty-sweet love into my mouth. Another day I might have guzzled him, but today I took it slow as I could. I let his frantic pumps flood my tongue, coat me, and overflow. I swirled him round and round, like wine, groaning like a connoisseur, and took deliberately small gulps, to relish each oysterish slide down my throat. I sucked and squeezed until I could get no more from his tip and even then I sucked on, halting his softening as long as I could. I wanted more, another release from him, and could probably get it, we'd managed before, but no, I'd promised myself that was the last.

So I let him go, kissed his happy cock goodbye, then each drained ball, and crawled up his body, licking spillage from my lips. As ever, this made him blush, but smirk. He was far too polite to say how he loved me doing this dirty thing, and that made it even sexier doing it for him. I wanted to kiss him, and he leant up to me to do so, but we knew we didn't do that. It felt too good in the same dangerous way fucking would be too good. Instead I stood astride his face and let my dangling juices glisten in the sunrise as I dripped for him. Let him see how much I loved his cum. How much I loved him.

He stroked my legs. "I thought you'd be exhausted after your orgy." He grinned and smacked my bum. So he had read it. I wondered if he didn't believe me. Perhaps he thought it was a story. I answered by opening my labia, and wriggling.

"It's OK," he said, his gaze lost in my sex. "I can see why you did it. I should've explained how we made your dildo. Did Gabrielle send you the video?" A long, sticky drip landed on his lips. He licked it off. "And you clearly did it to get to me. Which proves you like me. So that's something, even if it did hurt at first." He chortled at another long drip dangling over him. It landed, he licked, hummed. "All those adoring fans. I'm so lucky." He regarded me like I shone. "Bash. I--"

I crouched on his mouth and shut him up.

Bash. He called me Bash.

I came too quickly. I came too quickly and so hard I couldn't bear his magical mouth on my flaming, jangling clit any longer. I wanted it to last longer.

I wanted it all to last much longer.

I flopped off his face onto his chest and shuddered in his arms. I took a breath to say the words: "You should go." But he tipped my chin to him, and kissed me. We tasted of each other. I felt like I was tumbling into him. "Stop," I said.

"I love you," he said. "Marry--"

"Stop."

"No." He turned us over, lying above me. He rocked his hips at mine. He was rigid again, just from licking me. How could I dump a man who worshipped me so much? I leaked a tear, I couldn't hold it back. It rolled down the side of my head and he kissed it away. Something perfectly blunt and hard nudged between my cunt lips. He paused. His fat cock at my opening was a promise: this man would risk his life to be with me. Suddenly my grownup plan seemed weak and hollow.

"Marry me," he said.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't say no. But I couldn't say yes either. I curled my hips up at him, and brought him a little deeper. A little closer. This wasn't a need to be fucked. I could have that anytime. This was a need for much more than that, it was a need to be with him, and that would cost me dear. To be with Bill I'd have to give up my inheritance, my title--all the life I was born to. And worse of all, Father would seek murderous revenge.

But Bill slid deeper still. He'd made his decision. He waited for me, half inside me, half out. Our skins coalesced where they touched, aching to become one thing. Our breaths locked step. Our hearts too. I wrapped my arms about his neck, and my legs about his hips...

Fuck it all.

"Yes." I pulled him in. "Yes!"