Langley Circle Beginning Ch. 12

Beth stretched to a higher shelf and her body lengthened and tightened, doing delicious things for Dean. Her arms reached up, lifting her chest, which he was almost certain was not constrained by any kind of bra. As she moved the duster from side to side, he could detect a very natural and extremely alluring shimmy of her breasts. His eyes travelled down her body, over the curve of her backside, to where she was poised on tiptoes, the slender heels of her boots lifting from the ground. An involuntary moan passed Dean's lips.

Beth took a half step back, bending at the waist to concentrate on the lower shelves, and as she gradually worked downwards, her bottom stuck out at him temptingly. She was moving more energetically now, panting soft rhythmic breaths as her body shook gently. As she reached the end of one shelf, she paused and puffed out her cheeks. Grasping the shelf with both hands, she flexed her back. Dean's eyes widened at the sight of his wife bending over in a pose that just shrieked, "Come over here and fuck me now!"

He closed his book with a loud snap, startling Beth, who to her credit kept her eyes forward. He stood and walked slowly towards her, barely managing to resist the urge to slap her backside.

He brushed his hand lightly over her back, making her gasp, as he stretched up to replace his book, skimming the shelves for another. His movements had positioned him such that the very pronounced bulge in his trousers was mere inches from her face. He heard a soft moan from Beth as he ran his finger along the books. He reached to the far side, moving closer, until his bulge was almost touching her cheek. He glanced down and watched as her hand idly dragged the duster back and forth over the shelf while she stared hungrily at the tent in the front of his trousers. He stretched a fraction further, and felt his erection nudge against her face.

"Beg pardon sir!" Beth exclaimed, rising suddenly and taking a step back.

Dean turned to face her, finding her flushed and breathing hard. "What is it Lizzie?" he asked in a calm confident voice.

"Sorry sir. I wasn't able to avoid touching you." She darted her eyes to the side uncertainly, as she rung the cloth through her fingers. "You should have asked me to move."

"I should?" He let the question hang in the air like a challenge for a moment. "It is not your place to tell me what I should and should not do."

"No sir, course not sir, but it ain't right," Beth said in a meek voice.

Dean took a half step closer, catching the smell of soap and the faint musty aroma of her heavy dress. She visibly tensed at his close proximity, her breathing quickening. He lazily dropped his gaze to her chest, where he could now clearly see she wasn't wearing a bra, the smooth skin at the top of her cleavage flushed red with arousal.

"Not right? I am your employer; I feed you house you and pay you. It is for me to decide what is right and what is not." Dean spoke the words sternly, eyeing her the whole time.

"But sir--"

"No buts," Dean said. "Return to your dusting." He made no attempt to move, forcing her to step around him.

After a moment's hesitation, she dropped to her knees and returned to the dusting, his groin still only inches from her face.

"If I decide it is right to stand this close, then it is right."

"Yes sir," Beth said, briefly lifting her eyes to him.

"If I decide to move you like this"--he put his hand on her head and pushed her to one side--"then I will, and if I choose to move you like this"--He grasped her head and brought her back towards him, feeling her resist. He pressed her face into his groin, lewdly rubbing his erection over her cheeks, mouth and nose, as she gasped and struggled against him--"then I will." His cock twitched in the confines of his heavy trousers; He ached to take it out and lay it on her face. He released her head, and she fell back, sprawling onto her bottom.

"Yes sir, sorry sir. As you say sir." Beth gabbled the words out, breathing heavily, her face etched with frustration and fear, but her eyes never once straying from his cock.

Without a second glance, Dean grabbed another book at random, and walked back to the sofa. "Get to work. Your constant interruptions will not go unmentioned to Mrs. Beaton. Should you wish to keep this position, I suggest you do better."

Beth scrambled to her feet. "I beg you sir, I can't lose this position. I promise I--"

Dean silenced her with a wave of his hand. Neither spoke for a while, as Beth returned to the dusting. She moved to the mantelpiece, and with her back to him, began cleaning ornaments. He studied her face in the mirror as she worked; occasionally she would glance up at him, locking eyes briefly before averting her gaze once again. He fascinated over her ribbons for a while, entranced at how they flitted and danced around as she moved; he couldn't explain it, but it just got him all sorts of horny.

He got up and moved to stand behind her. He was close enough for his breath to tickle the back of her neck, the gasp that escaped her lips confirming this. He reached out and traced the thick knots of her braid with one hand, allowing the silky hair to run through his fingers.

Beth froze, eyeing him in the mirror nervously. "Sir, it ain't right," she said with timidity.

He stepped closer, pressing his hardness against her bottom. His arms encircled her waist sliding upwards, where she intercepted them, blocking him from her breasts.

"My, you are a pretty thing." He growled in her ear as she struggled weakly in his grasp.

"Unhand me sir, I beg you."

Dean stopped, took a step back, and turned her to face him. "I am not a monster," he said. "Do you think me one?"

"Not my place to say sir," she said crossing her arms protectively over her chest.

"Why then do you flutter your eyes at me so, and flush the colour of an English rose? Tell me you do not take pleasure from my attention."

"I. I." Beth stammered. "You sir, care only for your own pleasure, and nought for anyone else's."

"You know no such thing, and I see you did nothing to dissuade me of the notion that you find the attention flattering." He reached out, trailing one finger over her hip onto her stomach.

"Please sir," she said with a whimper. "It will anger housekeeper if I fails in my duty."

"And what of my anger, should you not acquiesce?"

She looked up at him aghast. "Beg pardon sir, did you not just claim not to be a monster?" Her voice trembled, barely more than a whisper.

"As for the notion that I am concerned only with my pleasure, I feel compelled to dissuade you of this falsehood this instant."

Dean moved his hand lower, pressing her dress into the gap at the top of her thighs. She moaned, closing her eyes as he made contact with her sex.

"Unhand me sir," she said with only a sliver of conviction.

He ignored her protestations, bending to thread his hand beneath her dress, sliding it up over her stocking covered legs. His cock twitched as his fingers caressed the silky material covering flesh, that trembled beneath his touch.

"No sir, I am a good girl." Beth's voice was tremulous and thin.

"I am certain you are, and good girls deserve rewards." His hand crested the top of her stocking, plunged in between her naked thighs and cupped her damp sex, eliciting a pleasurable gasp. "You seem to be enjoying this greatly my dear."

"I do not, take your hands from me," she said, sounding on the verge of tears, but then moaning in ecstasy as his finger slid between her moist lips.

"Look at me Lizzie," he said, and she lifted her gaze to his, averting her eyes in practised deference. "No, look into my eyes." He stared at her, and her eyes widened as his finger found her clitoris and began drawing tight circles upon it. Beth moaned and grabbed his arm to steady herself. She gripped his bicep firmly, panting softly as he continued to pleasure her.

Dean bent his head to hers and she parted her lips in anticipation. "Do you want me to kiss you?" His voice was deep and husky, his lips almost touching hers.

She sighed tremulously, eyelids fluttering. "No sir, not right." Her words were weaker than wet tissue, a token resistance, and he knew she desperately wanted to feel his mouth upon hers.

"As you wish." Dean tried to pull his hand free and step back.

Beth's grip on his arm tightened, and her thighs squeezed together. "Sir, I cannot. It is wrong." Her voice was full of pleading.

"Your voice tells me one thing Lizzie, but your body tells me another." He slipped his finger lower, easing it into her. The muscles of her vagina gripped tightly around him as she gasped in surprise.

"You are the master; I am nothing." She blurted out the words in between snatched breaths. "You could take me by force."

"As I said, I am no monster." Dean withdrew his hand making Beth whimper. Her dress fell back into place as he quickly retreated to the sofa, picking up his book once more. The urge to take her forcefully, as she had intimated, was almost unbearable, but Dean was enjoying the power play, he didn't want it to end too soon.

He glanced up to see Beth leaning unsteadily against the fireplace, her hand clasped to her neck, breathing rapidly. As he watched, a look of determination crossed her face; she straightened her dress, and strode over to the bucket, retrieving a dustpan and brush. Returning to the fireplace, she turned her back on him, lowered to her knees, and began sweeping the hearth.

Dean felt a pang of frustration that she could shake off his advances so easily, and was about to rise to his feet once more, with a mind to take her after all, when she dropped to all fours to sweep inside the fireplace. He watched mesmerized, as her shapely arse swayed back and forth before him, the scuffed heels of her boots poking from beneath the hem of her dress. Dean groaned and grabbed his cock, relieving some of his frustration with a firm squeeze.

Beth craned her neck back and flashed him a cheeky smile, quickly facing forwards once more when she was sure he had seen. Instead of returning to her brushing however, she reached back and slowly dragged up the hem of her dress, gradually revealing her stockings to his lustful gaze. Her head lowered to the hearth, forcing her arse higher into the air as she continued to lift the dress. As the hem reached the top of her stockings, Dean began rubbing the bulge in his trousers, no longer able to resist. He groaned as creamy flesh came into view and Beth pressed her cheek flat to the stone, casting a glance back at him. He was aware that she was trying to shift the balance of power, and it damn near worked. He was moments away from releasing his stiff cock and burying it deep in her. That was what she wanted after all, but he was determined to have her on his own terms.

He cleared his throat, finding it suddenly scratchy and dry. "This is filthy Lizzie," he said pointing at the coffee table in between them. "Be sure to clean it thoroughly."

Beth looked at him with frustrated desire. "Yes sir," she said, dropping the hem of her dress.

Dean thought she would rise from the floor, but to his surprise, she turned and slowly crawled toward the table on all fours. She kept her head up, eyes staring at his groin, as she rolled her hips from side to side, causing her bottom to wobble invitingly. Dean's gaze however, was glued to the neckline of her dress, which was stretching downwards under the weight of her unsupported breasts, affording him a wonderful view of cleavage.

He removed his smoking jacket, sat back, and spread his legs wide, making no attempt to conceal the erection that was tenting the front of his trousers obscenely. He never once took his eyes from her, as she reached the table and began dragging her cloth across its surface.

"Stand," he commanded. She studied him for a moment, but then complied, bending forwards at the waist to resume her dusting. Dean grinned lecherously at her unfettered breasts jiggling provocatively inside the front of her dress. "Look at me, keep your head up." She did as he ordered, and his view was even better as her heavy breasts swung before his eyes.

Dean shuffled forward on the sofa, leaning over so his face was close to hers. Beth's eyes half closed in anticipation, but he wrong footed her for a second time. He reached forward, slid his hand down the front of her dress, and grasped one of her breasts, causing her to squeak in surprise and pull back.

"Remain there and continue your work." He stared into her eyes and groaned as he fondled her, feeling her nipple hard and rigid rubbing against his palm. "Now do you want me to kiss you?" He sought out the nipple and rolled it gently between thumb and forefinger as he spoke, watching her face collapse into an expression of lust and desire; her staccato breathing puffed warm air onto his face.

"Sir, I beg you, I cannot ask that. It is wrong." She whimpered and faltered as he increased the pressure around her proud nipple.

"I will enquire one last time Lizzie. Do you wish me to kiss you?" He trailed his fingers to the other breast, giving it the same attention.

Beth tried to speak, but no words came out, she began, but stammered to a halting stop. She bit her bottom lip and Dean moved even closer, so she could feel his breath on her lips.

Finally, she broke. "Pray forgive me Sir. Yes. Kiss me," she said in a soft defeated voice.

Dean paused for a long moment before withdrawing his hand and standing up. Beth let out an exasperated groan of frustration. "Continue with the table," Dean said as he went to stand behind her.

Beth looked utterly gorgeous, bending over the low table, her hair and ribbons cascading down her back. The dress riding over her ankles as her generous arse stuck into the air before him. He moved in close behind her, sliding his hands onto her hips as he pressed his erection against her backside.

"I is a good girl. You mustn't," Beth said with a soft whine.

"But Lizzie, you asked me to kiss you."

"Sir?" The confusion in her voice was evident.

Dean ran his hands along her sides, reaching under to squeeze her breasts possessively, before sinking to his knees and lifting the hem of her dress.

"Pray sir, what are you doing?" Beth craned her head back, confusion giving way to panic.

"Eyes on your work Lizzie." Dean folded the long dress up over her back, groaning with desire at what he saw. Her feet were a short distance apart, the low kitten heels of her boots still high enough to tighten her calf muscles attractively.Her shapely legs were sheathed in smooth white stockings, with decorative lace welts, giving way to creamy smooth skin at the top of her thighs. The material of the dress perched on her round bottom, which jutted towards him invitingly, the pale pink lips of her sex peeking out from between her cheeks.

He reached out and caressed the heel of one black boot, before trailing his fingers onto her ankle. He sighed at the feel of the smooth silk of her stocking as he slid his hand slowly upwards. Avoiding touching her skin directly, he brought his other hand up and grasp both of her thighs firmly, before leaning forward to press his face between her legs, plunging his tongue in between the moist lips of her labia, making her squeal in surprise.

Dean began licking frantically; there was no slow build-up, no delicate kisses to begin, he was forceful and unyielding as he lashed his tongue up and down her slit, the sweet musky taste of her cunt filling his mouth. Beth let out a succession of mewling gasps as his tongue danced through her sex, dipping inside her, and stretching lower to tickle at her clitoris. She pushed back against him, encouraging him to continue his pleasurable onslaught; Dean eagerly did so, fighting off the urge to stop, free his cock, and take her roughly in a manner that would be utterly selfish, but nonetheless satisfy his near-unbearable lust.

He chose to vent his frustration on her tiny sensitive bud, pressing at her clitoris firmly and repeatedly with his tongue. With a loud gasp, Beth through her head up sharply, her long braid whipping onto her back, and on a whim, Dean grabbed it. He curled his fingers tightly around the hair and gave a firm tug, eliciting another shriek of pleasurable shock from Beth.

"Sir, I beg you. You mustn't, I cannot--"

Dean interrupted her protestations with a sharp slap to her backside. His cock twitched at the sound of the loud crack and the sight of the red welt that instantly blossomed there.

Beth gasped and thrust back against him, before whimpering feebly, panting out the words, "God forgive me, I beg you...do...not...stop."

He released her hair and delivered a slap to her other cheek, before grabbing her at the thighs and shifting his focus back to her pussy; he attempted to force as much of his tongue inside her as he could. Beth's breathing quickened and she lifted up on her toes as he lapped the sweet juice from her cunt, before trailing back to her clit. When he flicked at the bundle of nerves, she jerked back hard against his face, letting out a shrill shriek as her orgasm ripped through her.

The instant she began coming, Dean got to his feet, making her whimper in frustration. He quickly pulled the fly of his trousers apart, sending one button pinging across the room. Grasping his hard shaft, he roughly entered her, pushing steadily and forcefully into her cunt. Beth's frustration turned to moans of pleasure as she pushed back against him, rocking on her feet as her climax continued to intensify. He groaned loudly, thrusting his cock deep into her, the muscles of her vagina rippling and squeezing pleasurable sensations all along his shaft. HE grabbed her hips and pulled her back onto him, until he could go no deeper, throwing his head back and grunting with ecstasy.

"Sir, too big, too big," Beth said with a squeak, lifting higher on her toes, but he paid her no mind. Dean held her tight to him, not moving, but trapping her on his manhood. She dropped her head to the table and breathed in quick short bursts, trying to accommodate him and stay on her feet as the remnants of her orgasm wrung her out like a damp cloth.

Finally, Dean felt her muscles relax, and he began to slowly stroke in and out of her, small wet sucking sounds accompanying his steady thrusts. He slid his hands onto her arse and fascinated over the bright red handprint that he had left there. His cock twitched at the sight of it, making Beth whimper as he continued to fuck her steadily.

Her warm smooth skin was like silk under his fingers, and her cunt was hot and tight around him. He needed more though; he desperately wanted to look into her eyes when he found his own release.

He pulled out suddenly, causing Beth to gasp. He lifted her up and spun her to face him. They stared at each other for a moment, breathing heavily, her hand reflexively dropping to his cock. He growled in pleasure as her fingers curled around his thick shaft and began stroking.

"I confess I had you wrong sir; it seems you do care for the pleasure of others. Now, let me return the favour." She didn't wait for an answer, lowering down to perch on the coffee table. She looked up at him, parted her lips, and took him into her mouth.

Dean sucked air sharply through his teeth, as her lips slid along his shaft; the hot pressure around him was divine. "Yes Lizzie, take me all in your sweet mouth."

Beth bobbed her head up and down in long strokes that had him grasping the back of her head and groaning with each blissful suck. After a dozen or so, she went even deeper, and his cock nudged into the back of her throat. A gurgling gag exploded from Beth and she pulled back gasping for air, strings of saliva running from her lips to the head of his throbbing dick. He grasped his shaft, laying it on her face, and she closed her eyes in pleasure. He lightly slapped at her cheeks with his hardness, before pressing his balls to her lips, until she snaked out her tongue to lap hungrily at them.