Marchwood Ch. 02: The Grand Tour

Chapter 1: Paris

Lord Marchwood was beginning to regret his decision to embark on a grand tour of Europe. It was getting very cold and his coach rattled abominably over the rutted and potholed Alpine road. He sipped some brandy from his flask and wondered how long it might be before they reached an inn with some decent hot food and a warm bed. However, the scandal engendered by his recent divorce meant that staying in England was an intolerable prospect. He needed to revitalise himself after all the problems of the last few months. He particularly looked forward to revisiting Italy where he hoped he might be able to rediscover his artistic propensities by undertaking some sketching and painting.

He thought back on his journey so far. He had certainly enjoyed his stay in Paris. All the talk had been about the actress Sophie Dancourt, she was feted by all the gentlemen in the city for her beauty. Marchwood had immediately obtained tickets to see her perform with a group of his friends and had been enchanted by her. His friend Monsieur Morrell had even effected an introduction to the delightful Mademoiselle Dancourt and they had trooped into her dressing room after the performance. To Marchwood's surprise Sophie received them in nothing but her chemise and was busy removing her stage make up when they arrived. Even without her make up Marchwood found her stunningly beautiful with huge dark eyes shaded by long lashes and soft sensual lips. Her chemise did little to conceal her plump décolletage and the mounds of her magnificently rounded creamy white bosoms. Marchwood was immediately smitten and left her his card and asked if he might call upon her while he was in Paris.

The next day he arranged for a huge bouquet of flowers to be delivered to her dressing room with a note imploring her to meet him. To his surprise a messenger arrived later in the day with a hand written note informing him that she would call at his hotel the following morning and would be delighted to make his further acquaintance.

Sophie arrived the following morning at Marchwood's suite in a cloud of gardenia scent wearing an exquisite violet silk dress. She accepted a glass of champagne and after chatting for some time agreed to stay for lunch. Marchwood was overwhelmed by the actress's stunning appearance, though the conversation seemed to largely centre on herself and the series of wealthy admirers she had attracted. Marchwood was not deterred; he had determined that he had to have this woman at all costs.

Lunch went perfectly and Sophie pronounced herself satisfied with the sole, she quaffed more champagne and was delighted when she opened the small box which the waiter delivered with her dessert and found an exquisite pair of diamond earrings. When Marchwood suggested over coffee that she might wish to retire to his bedroom after lunch for a little rest he was amazed at her acceptance.

In the bedroom Sophie nonchalantly began to remove her beautiful dress and hung it over a chair. In her chemise she approached Marchwood and removed his jacket, cravat and waistcoat and then kissed him passionately on the lips.

"Are you coming to bed milord," she asked.

Soon they were both fully undressed and Marchwood was able to admire all her charms. Her breasts were simply perfect, plump globes of creamy flesh surmounted by proud erect nipples surrounded by large aureoles. Her belly was smooth, a just slightly rounded expanse of pale skin contrasting starkly with the dark triangle of thick hair at its base. They lay together kissing for a while, though when Sophie caressed his mouth with her tongue it was curiously lacking in passion. Marchwood wondered whether the actress was simply insufficiently aroused and began to kiss his way down her body. His tongue and lips caressed those proud nipples and roved across her belly until at last his tongue flicked along the dep valley in the midst of her dark forested mound. Sophie opened her exquisite white thighs and allowed him access to her secret grotto. He circled the hidden bud of her clit and gently probed the pink sheath of her vagina. Most women would have responded in some way to this. Perhaps a murmur of pleasure or the first tricklings of her vaginal secretions but Sophie lay there open to his ministrations but seemingly unresponsive.

"I am sorry milord, the act of love rarely arouses me but if you wish to make love I shall be happy to do so," Sophie suddenly said.

Marchwood raised his head to look into her beautiful dark eyes. "Perhaps you have not just made love in the right way," he suggested. "Turn over and let me try something with you."

Sophie looked a little askance and somewhat reluctantly turned over onto her front. Marchwood began to gently stroke her back arms and legs in an attempt to relax her and after a few minutes Sophie acknowledged that she felt somewhat stimulated by this. Marchwood switched from his fingers to using his tongue to gently kiss and lick his way down her spine while one finger explored her furry slit which was just beginning to moisten. When his tongue reached the base of her spine Marchwood continued his descent roving across the two perfect hillocks of her buttocks and then delving into the deep chasm between them. Sophie gasped at his tongue's invasion of this most private cleft but did not push him away. In fact Marchwood felt sure that as he gently parted her plump cheeks with is free hand and flicked his tongue across the her delicious puckered rosette that there was a small effusion of moisture from her pussy.

"Oh Monsieur what you are doing is tres mechant," groaned Sophie.

Marchwood chose to ignore her and began to circle her rosebud with his tongue while his finger gently stroked her swelling clit. Plunging his finger into her velvet cunny for a moment he realised that the moisture gushing from her source belied her protests. After a little more stimulation, he experimented with probing deeper into her tighter orifice with his tongue. Sophie moaned her approval.

"Ah mon cherie, c'est delicieuse," she cooed.

Marchwood was delighted that he had at last found Sophie's true source of pleasure, especially as it coincided so closely with his own inclinations. He continued to gently thrust in and out of the actress's tiny rear portal all the while maintaining his assault on her gushing pussy.

"Mademoiselle with your permission I would like to make love to your delicious bottom," Marchwood said.

"Oh milord you wish to sodomise me," said Sophie pronouncing the word in the French manner.

"Have you never been taken in that way my dear?" Marchwood asked.

"Oh non, I think it would be very, how do you say, tres douloureux,"

"Non ma Cherie," Marchwood reassured her "there is no pain if the gentleman is truly a gentle man."

"Tres bien, I will try but you must stop if I ask," implored Sophie.

Soon Marchwood had Sophie on her hands and knees. He had found a small pot of unguent which he carried everywhere for such eventualities. It contained a secret compound of vegetable oils and minerals which he had prepared by a London apothecary who declared it as the perfect lubricant for the act of love. He dipped his finger in the pot and gently smeared a little around the Sophie's pink rosette. She flinched a little as the cold ointment made contact with her sensitive entrance. Marchwood found a little more and gently probed her tight sphincter.

Sophie at first resisted his invading digit but then cooed in pleasure as he gently massaged the interior of her rectum with the magical ointment.

"Oh mon dieu, qui est si agréable," gasped Sophie as her anus was gently ravished by his oily finger.

Slowly the tight muscles of her back passage relaxed as Marchwood's massage of her rear entrance proceeded. He also continued to pleasure her frontal region using the dripping secretions from her cunt to lubricate her humming clitoris.

"Oh monsieur, are you going to sodomise me, I think I am ready but please be gentile," pleaded Sophie.

Marchwood quickly lubricated his own organ which was now ready to burst and lined it up with Sophie's tiny pink aperture. He pushed hard against the tightly clenched rosette.

"Oh ciel, c'est trop grand" moaned Sophie.

"Patience my dear," murmured Marchwood reassuringly. "Just relax, it may be a little uncomfortable at first but you will soon get used to it."

Soon with a little more pressure he was able to ease the tip of his prick forward into her delicious cleft. Sophie moaned a little as her virgin anus was dilated by the throbbing head of Marchwood's phallus. When she was , he inched his way forward again slowly invading her tiny rectum.

"Ooh, I think it is too much," groaned Sophie as her anal sphincter was dilated more than she ever thought possible.

Marchwood responded by gently rubbing her clit a little more which seemed to soothe her.

"Ah oui, c'est agreable," she murmured.

Marchwood continued his rubbing but also began to thrust forward a little further so his cock head and about half his shaft were embedded in the actress's arsehole.

Sophie continued to alternately moan at how big his organ was in her bottom and purr with pleasure as she enjoyed the sensation of being buggered for the first time. Marchwood did not try to push all his organ inside but contented himself with the delicious sensation of gently rocking back and forth so her tight sphincter gripped his shaft while feeling her cunt juices flowing copiously over his fingers as he rubbed her luscious slit.

"Oh mon cherie, c'est incredible, foute moi, foute moi trop fort," urged Sophie, demanding that he fuck her harder .

Marchwood speeded up the pace of his thrusts now delving ever deeper into Sophie's inner depths. His hips began to slap against the delicious curves of her buttocks with each thrust and Sophie could feel his balls slap against her cunt lips. Both of them were reaching a state of frenzy. Marchwood revelled in the supreme sensation of ravishing this stunning actress, delighting in the knowledge that he was the first to invade her most intimate portal. For her part, Sophie had never experienced love making of this intensity. Her other lovers had dutifully pumped away in her pussy leaving her unfulfilled but this mixture of sensations and the thrill of the forbidden intoxicated her and she was being carried to realms of pleasure she had never experienced before. Suddenly her head was swimming, she was floating on a sea of ecstasy. She had never experienced this before but she would later realise that this was her first sexual climax.

Sophie's screams of pleasure and the tightening of her sphincter around his prick signalled she had reached her peak and Marchwood gave a last few slow thrusts before pumping his seed into her bowels as his prick exploded in a kaleidoscope of delight.

Marchwood paid a fortune to a tout the following day to see Sophie perform again and after the curtain fell quickly slipped away to the stage door. He managed to persuade the doorman to let him into Sophie's dressing room and found her surrounded by a sea of admirers. When she saw him she rose from her seat and threw her arms around him and within a few minutes had dismissed the flock of adoring men.

"Sophie, will you please dine with me tonight and perhaps we can go back to my hotel to repeat our pleasant dalliance of yesterday," Marchwood implored her.

"Oh mon cheri, I cannot," responded Sophie. "I must depart early tomorrow with the compagnie for our tour of the provinces. We shall be gone for several weeks."

Marchwood was utterly crestfallen had he found this delicious woman only to lose her again?

"Tell me where you are bound. I will follow you. We can stay together while you tour," he suggested.

"No mon cherie, I will be working, touring is exhausting . Let us say au revoir tonight and maybe someday soon we will meet again."

Marchwood pleaded with her but to no avail. At last Sophie spoke to him consolingly.

"Perhaps you would do me one last favour and pleasure me again before you go,"

Marchwood visibly cheered up. "You don't mean...."

"Of course mon amour, come now."

At that Sophie bent over her dressing table and pulled up her chemise exposing once more those gloriously plump and creamy orbs. With only a moment's hesitation Marchwood moved towards her, unbuttoning his trousers he seized a pot of cold cream and quickly pressed a large lump into Sophie's delicious rosebud. Then anointing his prick, her gave it a few pulls and then gently eased it into Sophie's tight back passage. They both gasped in delight as the velvety tube of her anus enfolded his throbbing prick. A few minutes of gentle coitus soon brought them both to the pinnacle of ecstasy again and as Sophie writhed in pleasure, he emptied his balls in a final spasm of unbridled passion.

Chapter 2: Geneva

The coach gave a sudden lurch as it hit a pothole and Marchwood was almost ejected from his seat. His pleasant reverie remembering Paris was interrupted. He peered out of the coach and snow was swirling around them as they climbed higher and higher towards the Alpine pass.

"This is an accursed place," groaned Marchwood. "We should have stayed in Geneva or even better in Paris."

"Si Signor," agreed his valet Giuseppe who was seated opposite him. "I no like montagna, very dangerous. Soon we are in Italy, il paese più bello."

"Yes indeed Beppe, if we ever get there," responded Marchwood.

Giuseppe had been Marchwood's servant ever since he had rescued him from a band of brigands on his first visit to Italy twenty years earlier. Although it was etiquette to call one's valet by their surname, Marchwood had always addressed him as Beppe and continued to do so when he took over the function of valet on his return to England. Beppe was a wily rogue but utterly faithful to his master and had helped him to escape from many a difficulty over the years.

Once more Marchwood sank into his reverie, this time his thoughts turned to his recent visit to Geneva. He had decided to visit the city by the lake as he had visited the place on his first tour twenty years earlier. At that time he had just come down from Cambridge and his father had insisted that he took the grand tour with a tutor. Marchwood had not been at all keen but fell in love with Europe and especially Italy as he began to discover the continent. His tutor was a dry old clergyman named Dr Grundy and he had arranged for them to stay at a very reputable guest house on the shores of Lake Geneva.

Marchwood began to enjoy their forays into the mountains to hunt wild flowers and butterflies but more than that he enjoyed the company of the landlady a voluptuous widow in her thirties named Madame Bertrand. Marchwood had relatively little sexual experience at that time. His dalliances with ladies had been largely confined to a few visits to disreputable ladies in Cambridge after drinking sprees with his university companions.

He had been pleasantly surprised when Madame Betrand, or Martine as he came to call her in private, slipped into his room one night and then between the covers of his bed. With Martine he first discovered the pleasures of the flesh. He later realised that she was not a particularly adventurous lover but night after night she eagerly accepted his embraces and allowed him to sink his horny young prick into her lubricious cunt and fuck her until they were both satiated.

Marchwood had therefore not been able to resist paying a return visit to Madame Bertrand's establishment to find out how the years had treated her. On his arrival she greeted him like a long lost child smothering him in kisses and embracing him warmly. Martine was certainly a little plumper and her dark hair now showed a few streaks of grey but she was still a remarkably attractive woman for her age. Marchwood wondered whether she would be willing to resume their intimate relationship after so much time had passed. That night he ate an excellent dinner prepared by Martine and shared a liqueur with her after the maid had cleared the table.

"I still have fond memories of my last visit Martine," said Marchwood.

"Ah you were little more than a boy and now you are a true man," she replied.

"You know I never really thanked you for your kindness," he added.

"Ouf, pas du tout. It was you who were kind to me. I was a widow in need of a man and young vigorous fellow like you comes along to service me. Quel plaisir!"

"I am surprised you have not married again," Marchwood said.

"Oh I have had many offers but nobody who I wanted to spend my life with. After all many gentlemen pass through my house each year and if one is dicreeet....."

"Ah yes I see," he replied.

"Well I shall be going to bed shortly but if you would like to join me you are most welcome," Martine said with a lascivious smile.

So it was that Marchwood found himself in bed a short time later with his landlady. Martine seemed to enjoy a hard fuck with few preliminaries. Marchwood tried to engage in a little of what is often termed foreplay but she simply pulled him on top of her and guided his willing prick into her juicy cunt. Marchwood was more than willing. He had been on the road since leaving Paris and there had been few opportunities for sexual dalliances. His balls had been aching for a good fuck and now he was being offered one. So it was that he went to it, pumping Martine hard until she screamed with pleasure and then ejaculating with a huge burst of relief as he deposited several week's worth of pent up semen in his landlady's willing pussy.

Marchwood spent several pleasant days enjoying the city and the surrounding countryside, though he found the dour Genevois with their Calvinist tendencies somewhat dull. However, the delights of Madame Bertrand's ample thighs and plump bosom and the pleasure of sinking his throbbing cock into her sopping cunt each night more than made up for this.

After some nights, Marchwood became a little bored with the ritual they were sinking into. Martine seemed more than happy with the traditional missionary position and required few preliminaries. She was truly a lusty widow who enjoyed nothing better than a solid prick thrusting into her as she lay on her back. However, Marchwood had always enjoyed sexual variety and especially the darker byways of lovemaking. Finally one night he persuaded Madame to essay a different position.

"Martine I wonder whether we might try making love 'en leverette' as you say in French,"

"Ah, comme les chiens," said Martine slightly disdainfully. "Of course if you wish."

Martine assumed the position on her hands and knees. Her ample breasts swinging beneath her and her large plump posterior in the air. Marchwood gingerly positioned himself behind her and pointed his stiffening cock at her plump and hairy slit. With a quick thrust he had buried it to the hilt and her velvety sheath encased him like a glove. He began to gently pump her dripping channel and Martine cooed in pleasure. Marchwood always loved this position as it allowed depth of penetration and also the opportunity to admire a fine arse as he plunged in and out of the lady's cunt. Martine certainly had a fine arse, definitely on the plump side but Marchwood was an admirer of what he termed the Rubensesque lady and Martine's well rounded orbs would have delighted any Renaissance painter.

After working his piston in the landlady's well-oiled shaft for a few minutes Marchwood could not resist fondling those well mounded buttocks and surreptitiously easing apart the tight cleft to admire the tiny brown starfish nestling at its heart. Marchwood had been hoping for some days that his landlady might allow him access to her most private orifice but she had never shown any inclination in that direction either now or during their former liaison.