Marchwood Ch. 02: The Grand Tour

"So you see your visit is a welcome diversion Lord Marchwood," Donatella explained. "We receive few visitors and our social life is restricted to dinners with a few elderly neighbours."

After dinner Donatella offered to entertain Marchwood in the salon and played the harpsichord for him. Her playing was rather indifferent but when she sang she had the voice of an angel. He was unable to reciprocate but when he offered to sketch her she was delighted. He fetched his sketchpad and some pencils which he always carried from his room and returned to quickly delineate his host's physiognomy. Donatella had a fine bone structure, set off by her dark hair pinned back from her face. Her long swan like neck also offered beautiful lines to an artist like Marchwood. After about half an hour of furious drawing and shading Marchwood was satisfied with his efforts and offered his pad to Donatella for inspection.

"Oh Lord Marchwood, this is beautiful, you have a real talent," Donatella exclaimed. "Have you ever exhibited your work?"

"Well I am a member of the Royal Academy and occasionally exhibit in their summer exhibition," Marchwood explained, "but mostly it is just an amusement."

"Do you ever do drawing of naked ladies?" asked Donatella giggling.

"Oh quite frequently," Marchwood replied. "Actually my cook in Rome acts as a model for me and I have produced a number of paintings of her."

"Oh I wish you could paint me. I would love to be your model," exclaimed Donatella.

"But surely your husband would disapprove," Marchwood suggested.

"Of course he would be he would not need to know," said Donatella coquettishly.

"Are you serious my lady?" asked Marchwood incredulously.

Soon Donatella had hatched a plan and Marchwood bade her goodnight and repaired to his room.

Marchwood waited impatiently, he wondered how long she would take. Finally almost an hour later there was gentle tap on the door and Donatella appeared wearing a dressing gown and satin slippers.

"I am so sorry to keep you waiting," Donatella explained. "I needed to be sure none of the servants were around."

"What about you husband?" Marchwood enquired.

"Oh he sleeps in a separate room and I always give him a sleeping draught so he will not wake until morning," Donatella replied. "Now where you would you like me?"

"Are you sure you wish to go through with this?" Marchwood asked. "I mean highborn ladies do not usually pose for me in this way."

"Oh I am not high born," Donatella explained. "My great-grandfather was shepherd, there is not a drop of blue blood in my veins."

With that she dropped her robe to the floor and kicked off her slippers revealing herself in the candlelight in her naked glory. Her dark wavy hair now flowed down her slender back and Marchwood admired her small taut buttocks as she walked towards the bed swaying her slim hips. Donatella was certainly not the Rubenesesque type of beauty that Marchwood normally adopted as his model but her slender curves would certainly provide a fine subject for his art.

Donatella trod lightly on the footstool and mounted the huge bed gracefully stretching herself out like a cat. She lay on her side facing him one hand supporting her head.

"How about like this?" she demanded.

Marchwood for once looked embarrassed in the presence of a naked woman, taken aback by the grace and confidence of the beautiful Marchesa.

"Erm yes, I think that will do nicely," he replied.

He seized a chair and his sketchpad and began to furiously sketch out the contours of Donatella's voluptuous body. He completed one sketch and then asked Donatella to change pose and sketched her again. His pencil flew across the paper as if he were as man possessed. At last after half a dozen sketches he sank back in his chair exhausted.

"Oh Lord Marchwood I have over-tired you," said Donatella solicitously. Here, come and get in bed and I will relax you."

"You must be ready for bed yourself," Marchwood said.

"All in good time," Donatella replied soothingly.

To his amazement she crossed the room still quite naked and conducted him to the bed. She seated him on the edge of the bed and began to pull off his shoes and stockings. She unbuttoned his shirt and suddenly they were face to face in the candlelight. Their lips met and their mouths melted into one another in a long passionate kiss. Donatella continued to kiss him swirling her tongue around his mouth as she tore at his clothes. Soon Marchwood found himself naked in the huge bed with Donatella straddling him and continuing to kiss him.

"Donatella, are you sure this is a good idea," Marchwood gasped. "After all I am a guest of your husband."

"My husband has not been able to make love to me for eight years. I am a young woman I have needs," Donatella begged.

Put like that Marchwood could hardly refuse. Besides he could already feel Donatella's moist pussy rubbing against his thighs and his own organ was rapidly achieving a state or tumescence as a result of her ministrations.

"Please let me play with your... I don't know, the word in Italian is cazzo," Donatella asked.

"I think what you are referring to is called a cock or a prick in English," Marchwood explained.

"Ah cock, I must remember that," she replied. "And the hole of the lady, la figa what is that in English?"

"Oh that would be your fanny or cunt," Marchwood added.

"Cunt what a strange word," Donatella exclaimed. "Well Lord Marchwood, I want to play with your cock."

With that she reached for the aforesaid organ and began to gently pump it in her hand. Soon the gentle swelling of his manhood had grown to a full erection and Donatella looked in delight at the fine specimen of manhood contained in her fist.

"Oh Lord Marchwood, I like very much your cock. You must know it is very much better than that of my husband. His is very small and old."

With that Donatella bent her head and began to gently suck the tip of Marchwood's rampant tool. He groaned in pleasure as she softly suckled on his swollen glans. He wondered where she had managed to acquire such oral skills.

"One thing Donatella," he murmured, "I think we are intimately enough acquainted for you to use my Christian name, which is Tiberius."

"Oh like the Roman emperor," exclaimed Donatella briefly raising her head before resuming her suckling on his manhood even more enthusiastically.

"Well yes," groaned Marchwood, "All the men in my family traditionally take the names of Roman emperors."

Donatella was now energetically bobbing her head up and down on his hardened pole, her soft lips sliding up and down the length of his shaft and across the purple mushroom of his cockhead. Although his recent encounter with the chambermaid had taken the edge of his lust slightly he knew that he would not be able to hold off the inevitable if this continued much longer. Gently Marchwood pulled Donatella's head away from his throbbing prick and pulled her up to kiss her.

"You don't like what I do?" asked Donatella, "Maybe I don't please you?"

"On the contrary," Marchwood replied. "It is quite the opposite, if you carry on I fear our encounter will be terminated all too swiftly."

Donatella seemed to understand his meaning and a smile lit up her face in the candlelit gloom.

"Perhaps I could repay the favour," he added.

Soon Marchwood's head was nestled between Donatella's slim thighs. Her pussy was covered in a soft fluffy pubis, nothing like the thick bush displayed by many of the Italian ladies, including Marchwood's own Rosa, but pleasing enough to his eyes. He experimentally flicked his tongue along the puffy lips of her cunt and she moaned in approval as he travelled the length of her yearning slit. His tongue darted just inside her entrance and he drank in the sweet nectar exuded from her gushing aperture. Once more she moaned her approbation as his nimble labial organ explored deeper and deeper into her forbidden passage. His tongue found the swelling bud of her clitoris and swirled around its hood until the tiny bid emerged swollen and throbbing under his relentless tongue. Donatella urged him on, consumed by her own urgent , which had been so long unfulfilled. Suddenly she was quivering in ecstasy as she shook with a powerful orgasm. Wave after wave of pleasure overwhelmed her and she came again and again as Marchwood pushed a finger deep into her pussy while continuing to lash her clit until she could take no more.

Donatella lay back exhausted by her powerful climax, Marchwood lay beside her content to take his time and enjoyed himself by softly nibbling on her breasts alternately while she gently rubbed his prick. Donatella seemed in no hurry to resume their love making but after a few minutes Marchwood placed himself between Donatella's thighs and began to kiss her in preparation for some more penetrative intercourse. He felt Donatella's cunt, which was still dripping with moisture, and positioned the swollen head of his member at the entrance to her slit.

"Oh Lord Marchwood, one thing I beseech you, if you make love to me you must not plant any of your seed inside me," implored the Marchesa. "You must understand that my husband is too old to make love to me now and if I were to fall with child he would obviously be most suspicious."

"I understand perfectly my lady," replied Marchwood. "I am sure there are many ways in which we can assure our mutual satisfaction without running that risk."

This seemed to satisfy Donatella and she wrapped her legs around his back and pulled him into her. Marchwood thrust forward and allowed his rampant cock to be enveloped by her soft velvety cunt. He enjoyed the delicious sensation for a moment, continuing to swirl his tongue inside her mouth.

"Come, make love to me," urged Donatella. "How sweet it is to feel a man inside me again but remember save your come."

Marchwood began to make long slow thrusts in and out of the delicious Marchesa, eliciting tiny moans from her at each penetration. As he increased the pace of his thrusts she brought her hips up to meet him pulling him deeper and deeper inside and urging him on with her cries. Marchwood exercised every ounce of self-control to hold back his climax. Donatella's body was simply divine and the sensations of her silken cunt rubbing against his prick were indescribable. He could however, sense that the lady was not far from a second crescendo and as a gentleman he waited to allow her to come to her peak. Donatella's tiny cries rose higher and higher as she attempted to muffle her own voice. He could sense the urgency of her long unfulfilled need and plunged deeper and deeper into her chasm attempting to fulfil it. At last Donatella was thrashing and quivering in ecstasy as he brought her to the brink and then a flood of release. He continued to stroke in and out as the flood of her orgasm receded until she could take no more.

Once again the Marchesa was exhausted by her ravishment but after a few moments came to her sense and remembered her manners.

"But Tiberius, you have not come at all and you have pleasured me so beautifully. Let me repay you by sucking your beautiful cock."

"That would be pleasant enough Madam," Marchwood replied, "but I wonder whether you would do me the favour of permitting me to come in your delicious bottom."

"Oh signore, I have never done that before, my other lovers are usually happy enough to come in my mouth," Donatella replied.

"Well pray try something new and fulfil my darkest desire," implored Marchwood. "I am sure you will not regret it."

"Very well I will let you have my culo if you are very gentle. But please be soft, remember no other man has ever done this to me."

To his surprise Donatella rolled onto her stomach and lay passively waiting for his next move.

"Are you sure you will be comfortable like that?" Marchwood asked perhaps on your side might be easier."

"Donatella however refused to budge and Marchwood straddled her thighs. Realising that he had omitted to use any lubricant her reached across to his bedside table where, to his surprise, Beppe had left his little pot of lubricant. Had the servant sensed the possibility that his master might need to avail himself of the vial of unguent that night? Marchwood was not surprised Beppe had become used to anticipating his every need after years of service.

He took a little of the greasy substance and gingerly prised apart Donatell's taut buttocks. As he eased his index finger into her anus she jumped up.

"Oh signore, what are you doing?" she cried.

"Madam, you must know it is very necessary to apply a little lubrication if we are to follow this route otherwise it will not be without some discomfort to yourself," he explained.

At this Donatella relaxed and allowed him to continue to grease her rectum with a more liberal quantity of the oleaginous cream. When he was satisfied he positioned his throbbing cock against Donatella's tiny clenched orifice.

"Oh Tiberius, I am sure it will not fit, I cannot believe that your huge cazzo will fit into my poor little culo," moaned Donatella.

"Oh I am sure it will if you relax and allow me in," said Marchwood reassuringly.

Indeed at first he could make little headway, Donatella's tight pink sphincter resisted all his efforts to penetrate it but after a few essays he finally began to work the purple head of his prick into the tiny orifice. Donatella uttered a muffled squeal into the pillow as she felt her anus dilate and accommodate itself to Marchwood's probing fleshy pole. Marchwood continued gently but implacably pushing his cock further and further into her rectum.

"Oh Tiberius it is too big, my culo feels like it is going to burst," Donatella complained.

"Nonsense my dear, just a little more now," Marchwood replied encouragingly.

With that he tried a few more gently thrusts and soon had most of his cock encased in the tight flesh of Donatella's arse. He paused allowing her to accommodate herself to the plump cylinder of flesh embedded in her back passage. The sensation of his cock being tightly squeezed by her tight sphincter was too delicious, as was the view of his manhood nestling between the perfect orbs of Donatella's buttocks.

"Oh Tiberius, are you sure you do not want me to suck your cazzo?" implored Donatella. "You know I give the best fellatio in Italy."

"I am sure you do Madam," replied Marchwood, "but at this moment I want nothing more than your delicious arse and I intend to have it. After all I have pleasured you twice and now I intend to have my pleasure."

With that he gave a mighty thrust and embedded his cock to the hilt in the Marchesa's bottom.

"Cosi crudele!" groaned Donatella as she felt her anus impaled by his spear.

Marchwood was not a cruel man as Donatella maintained but he could not resist a beautiful bottom and sodomy was for him the most refined form of sexual pleasure. Now he had his cock surrounded by Donatella's tight anus he had no intention of relinquishing his position. He began to thrust firmly into the Marchesa who remained face down on the bed below him her face thrust into the pillows muffling the soft whimpers coming from her as she yielded her anal virginity to Marchwood's ravishment. Marchwood knew he would not last long and he had no desire to prolong the encounter if it was not to Donatella's liking. He picked up the pace of his thrusts, he could feel the loosening of the Marchesa's sphincter as she became inured to being buggered. She now lay face down offering no resistance as he felt his climax rise and then the divine pleasure of his cock spurting into her bowels.

Afterwards they lay together and to his surprise Donatella confessed that she had not found the whole experience unpleasurable.

"So would you allow a gentleman to sodomise you again?" Marchwood enquired.

"Well not tonight, I feel a little sore," Donatella replied, "but another time, well maybe."

The next day the Marchese appeared a little recovered and invited Marchwood into his study to make the final arrangements for the painting. To Marchwod's surprise after a short period of haggling the Marchese agreed to a sum close to what the Duke had agreed was a fair price. He reassured Marchwood that he could hire a most trustworthy team of men who would transport the painting to Germany by cart having suitably packaged and crated the valuable masterpiece. Marchwood for this part handed over a bankers draft for the agreed sum which would ensure the payment from the Duke.

After a delicious lunch Marchwood bade his farwells. He was warmly embraced by his new friend the Marchese and he was sure that Donatella was fighting back a small tear as he kissed her on both cheeks. Then he mounted his horse, the faithful Beppe at his side and rode as fast as he could back to Rome.

Chapter 7: Return to Rome

Marchwood soon settled back into the routine of his existence in Rome. For the first few days after his return he began work on his new painting of Donatella based on the sketches he had made at Castello Belafonte. He saw little of Rosa and was consumed by the desire to finish his latest masterpiece.

After a week Marchwood emerged from his attic and went for a walk. The winter sunshine of Rome raise his spirits and for the first time in a long time he dropped into the Jew's shop. The proprietor welcomed him like an old friend and ushered him through to the private room at the rear.

"I have a new book you may be interested in signore. It is in French but I know you are fluent in the language and will find no difficulty there," he said.

He handed Marchwood a slim tome bound in red leather. Marchwood flicked thought the pages surmising that it was a collection of erotic stories published privately in Paris some ten year earlier. He quickly skimmed the first tale translating from the French in his head. It seemed to involve a country house and young ladies who were subjected a mild birchings followed by induction into a series of erotic pleasures culminating in their being sodomised by a collection of gentlemen. In all, precisely the kind of pornographic work which satisfied his tastes. Marchwood quickly agreed a price and, pocketing the book, made his way home.

The next day Marchwood was restless he had not completed his painting of the Marchesa and decided to leave the project for a while until her could rediscover his energy. That afternoon he lay listlessly on his bed reading his new book. The description of the corking of the virginal Nadine by the lascivious Monsieur Dubois began to make him feel exceedingly aroused. He considered frigging himself or even summoning Rosa and asking her to perform this service. Then he remembered that it was Beppe's day off. While his manservant seemed to know his master's most intimate secrets he remained tight lipped about where he disappeared to in his free time.

He descended to the kitchen, a domain he rarely visited. Rosa was busy making bread and greeted him with a friendly smile. Marchwood leaned against the wall and observed her at her work. With her strong muscular arms she beat the dough against the kitchen table and kneaded it until it became more elastic. Her large breasts heaved within the confines of her blouse, which revealed the deep curves her generous cleavage. Marchwood was more aroused than ever and knew that he had to satiate his lust. He walked behind Rosa and putting his arms around her, he kissed the back of her neck.

"Oh Signore," Rosa said, "please let me finish making the bread and then I will come upstairs with you."

"Oh Rosa I have missed you more than you can know," Marchwood replied. "I don't think I can wait any longer, I must have you now."

Rosa continued to knead the dough in a rather desultory fashion as Marchwood began to knead her breasts in a similar fashion and continued to kiss the nape of her neck. He could feel his prick straining in his trousers and knew that he had to have release soon. He pushed Rosa forward so she was bending over the kitchen table. After a little resistance she succumbed, perhaps sensing the urgency of her masters need and mindful of the generous manner in which he had rewarded her compliance so far. Marchwood raised the back of her skirt revealing that as usual she wore no drawers. He observed that the plump twin moons of her buttocks were exposed to his lustful gaze and peeping out from the cleft a small tuft of dark hair adorned her nether lips.