Rogeringham

"Gentlemen, stand back-to-back." Sir Arthur's instructions were firm and delivered in an authoritative tone. "On my command, you will walk fifteen paces and stand. On my next command, you will turn to face each other. Once you are both facing each other, and only at that point, then you may fire when you are ready."

"Walk!"

I could feel the rising sun on the side of my face as I counted nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen and fifteen. I stood and waited.

"Gentlemen - turn!"

I pivoted about to see that Fellowes was already pointing his pistol at me.

I have been here before. This is as much a game of dare as it is anything else.

And I dared.

My own pistol pointed upwards in my hand. Fellowes' piece was pointed directly at me, but even as I watched, it wavered. Tiny motions, tremors of the hand and wrist. I looked at him, at his eyes - red and raw looking. It took no time at all to observe all of that, and almost immediately afterwards Sir Montague Fellowes discharged his pistol.

Even as I watched the spark flare, igniting the powder in the pistol's pan, I saw that Fellowes had jerked at the trigger, the movement rippling along his arm towards his shoulder; causing the muzzle to drift off target and the ball, when the pistol fired, to pass close by my cheek, making a fluttering, rushing sound.

I was not hit. That will please Helena, I thought to myself.

Now it was my turn to fire, and pistol still raised, I waited to do so. I made a slow count of ten under my breath, before I lowered the muzzle and took a sight upon my opponent. Despite the drink I had had the previous evening, my hand was rock steady and the muzzle of the pistol did not waver at all.

Fellowes was not taking it well. He shook and he twitched, his breathing was rapid and his eyes darted around. Escape was now not an option unless I offered it to him, it was all he could do to remain standing.

Finally, he cracked. "Shoot! Shoot damn you, Rogeringham!"

At that point I cocked the pistol. "You will address me as 'Your Grace', sir."

It was the act of readying my piece to fire, that finally broke Sir Montague's strained resolution. He sank to his knees and fell forwards, grovelling on the floor, at which point, I fired the pistol - into the earth at my feet.

"Get up you wretch!" I told him, "Get up!"

Fellowes stayed upon the floor, sobbing.

I turned to his second, "Get this coward out of my sight! Get him out of this county, and ensure that I never see his sorry face again. If I hear that he has repeated any word of his vile slurs, I will hunt him down and beat him to within an inch of his snivelling life!

"Do you hear me, Fellowes? With my bare hands." (I later found out that Sir Montague Fellowes had used the last of his money to buy passage to the Americas.)

And with that, Sir Arthur, Barclay and I walked to our horses, to go back to the Hall.

As we rode back to the hall, I looked at Barclay, "Joshua, if I ever do anything as reckless as that again, you have my permission to knock me down."

"Very good, Your Grace. I did wonder what it was that you were planning."

Sir Arthur looked at me. "I was so angry that I wasn't thinking clearly." I told him ruefully.

"It seemed to make an impression on your opponent, Your Grace. Damn me! The chap folded up like a used napkin."

I thought about what I had done, and shuddered inwardly, if that ball had been two inches to the left ... But it wasn't and I was still here, on a glorious morning of a beautiful day that was also going to be the day on which I would marry Arabella.

"There is still one thing to be taken care of, Your Grace," Barclay said quietly, "You still need to tell Lady Helena."

I winced. "Is that really necessary?" I asked.

"I believe it would be the best course of action to confess now, before the wedding. To save any issues later, Your Grace."

Of course, Barclay was right. Truthfully, I was more scared of what she would say than I had been facing Fellowes.

In the end there was no need to tell her. I never found out how she knew but she did.

And she was quite annoyed about it.

In fact, she expounded exactly how annoyed she was quite loudly and for some twenty minutes without once pausing for breath or grasping for what she was going to say. And Helena had obviously made a great deal of progress on her ability to swear, because a ten-minute spell in the middle of her declamation was continuous - and quite imaginative - profanity.

Only when she had finally ended her rant, did she enquire why - 'in the name of the Dear Lord God and all of His Little Angels' - I had chosen to fight a duel upon my wedding day. What about your poor wife? What about me, William? Why?"

When I told her the circumstances and what Fellowes had said, she paused, and her angry face softened. She reached out and touched my cheek, the one that the pistol ball had passed so perilously close to. "Never tell me what happened, I could not bear to hear how close you were to death, but know this as well, despite being your lover, I am still your mother and I am so proud of you and the man that you have grown into. Doubly so that you are an honourable one as well.

She moved her hand to my loins and cupped my prick within my breeches, which swelled appreciatively, "As much as I would love to do something with this now, it is only fair to save this for your bride and her wedding night. You should go and change your clothes. We are due at the church at eleven."

That comment about saving it for my bride ruled out the chance of me getting Helena on her knees before me and having her use her mouth. I knew from the tone of her voice, that it would not happen.

Ah well.

93. Union

Just before eleven o'clock I stood with Henry Adams as my second, I apologise, as my best man, and we waited at the altar of St Mary's church in Rogeringham when Arabella entered on the arm of her uncle, with her two bride's maids.

I am afraid that I could no more describe her dress and what it was made of than I can fly, but she did look very pretty. It was cream in colour as is common, and decorated with ivory-coloured flowers, and she held a bouquet of white roses before her as she advanced down the aisle towards me.

Dr Locksley officiated and read the service, during which we made our vows and responses, though I think that even the vicar, that most astute individual, missed some of the looks that passed between Arabella and I during the exchange.

As has been suggested, it would be totally correct to call this a marriage of convenience, after all we were both entering the agreement with our own interests, but it was less strange - and more honest than others - because, despite both of us having our own interests in the marriage there was a genuine affection between us and it was the same between Arabella and my family. That we were neither of us head-over-heels in love did not matter. Our marriage might have been described more like a dynastic alliance, except that we genuinely enjoyed each other's company and we were comfortable together in each other's presence.

It was all in the vows never spoken - in private we had both sworn to never embarrass the other by what we did in private, that we would always treat each other with respect in all aspects of our lives and loves, to always be honest with each other, and should there be children, we would both be parents to them as much as we could.

Soon we had returned to Rogeringham Hall for the wedding breakfast, where the booming voice of Joshua Barclay announced the entrance of His Grace, the Duke and Her Grace, the Duchess of Norton, Captain Sir William and the Honourable Arabella Rogeringham, to happy cheers and great celebration.

In 'olden times', a ducal marriage like mine might have lasted days and the feasting and merriment would have consumed prodigious supplies of food and wine; actors and musicians would have played and performed and the whole thing would have been a great festival.

Those days, as I once told Helena, are long past. Oh, for sure, there was feasting and there was merriment. An orchestra played in the ball room, and people travelled from all over the county and down from London to be seen at our wedding. Rogeringham Hall did what it does best - hospitality of the very finest kind.

Eventually, after a day filled with laughter, music, and dancing, it was time for my new wife and I to retire.

Arabella and I entered my chamber to find that Barclay had placed everything just so for us. There was wine and tid-bits if we felt hungry, there was space for my wife's clothing, and because the nights were cool this spring, dressing gowns had been placed ready, the fire was banked and the room was warm.

Helena, or as she was styled, now that I was married, the Dowager Lady Duchess of Norton, sat upon the couch by the fire waiting for us, dressed in what looked like nothing but her favoured pearl-grey banyan dressing gown.

Despite the fact that we had been with her all evening, she welcomed us, and Arabella received a warm embrace. "I have already greeted you," Helena said, with her arms still wrapped around her daughter-in-law - my mother had actually proposed a toast during the wedding breakfast doing just that. "This now, is about me welcoming you ..." Helena paused, looking for a suitable phrase.

"Into the family, Your Grace?" Arabella asked.

"Please call me Helena," My mother asked, "And yes, I am welcoming you into our family, with all of the adventures that that can bring." Helena finished, with a smile.

I poured some champagne, and handed it round.

"The thing about families," Arabella mused, as she sipped her champagne, "Is that they offer the most interesting of possibilities. Take my own mother, for example, she is most adventurous, as I think you know."

Helena nodded with a twinkle in her eyes.

Suddenly Arabella paused and asked, "May I call you mother, as well, Helena?"

"I would be honoured," Helena told her. "And I hope that we have many adventures together."

Arabella placed her champagne glass on the table, stood up and walked to the side of the bed. She looked back at me, inviting my assistance to help her undress, which I did. Dropping her last garment, her chemise, to the floor and climbing to kneel on the bed, naked she turned to face us. She reached out, for my hand and for Helena's.

"Well, mother?" she said, "Will you assist me in the process of making an heir to His Grace, the duke?"

I waited, looking at Helena.

"It would be my pleasure Arabella." She replied as she too, disrobed and climbed onto the bed.

It was the first time I had seen them naked together, Helena's more mature and, if she will forgive me saying it, fuller figure against Arabella's, which is still girlish in some ways, though ripe and sensual in others. The prospect of having both of these beautiful women in my bed at the same time was more effective than any aphrodisiac could ever have been.

"Ooooh!" Arabella squealed delightedly as I stepped out of my breeches, "I had forgotten what a splendid weapon it was that you wielded, William."

She dropped her hands to it as I lay down next to them.

"Yes," Helena said slowly, thoughtfully, as Arabella slowly stroked my hardness. "I understand that you may have made its acquaintance before."

Arabella stopped her fondling, clasping her hands in front of her, she bowed her head and looked quite contrite as she knelt in front of Helena.

"This is true, mother," she said in a girlish tone, "I did." She reached out with her right hand, and toyed with the head of my cock, as she said thoughtfully, "I suppose that that makes me a bad daughter." Before she continued in a sly, teasing tone, "Perhaps you will punish me for it later?"

Helena laughed, a delighted sound, and leaned forwards to embrace her daughter-in-law, "Oh I shall," she said, still laughing, though the underlying tone of her voice, suggested that she fully intended to. "I shall indeed, you may be assured of that."

Arabella looked at Helena with what I can only call worship in her eyes, as she breathed, "Ohhh! Yes, please! I await your pleasure, mother." And the two women kissed, even as both of them fondled my prick between them.

For a moment I wondered whether Arabella had married me or Helena, but then Arabella leant forwards to begin sucking on my cock.

"Get William's prick good and hard, daughter," Helena encouraged her, fondling my pills as Arabella sank her nose almost into my pubes. "It has much work to do tonight, it must be perfectly ready."

With my cock filling her mouth, my new wife made an mmm-mm sound, to signify that she understood. While she was suckling away, I reached out and sought the curves of her backside, cupping her cheeks and sliding my fingers through the groove of her cunny. It appeared that any reservations Arabella might have had about me versus her obvious attraction to my mother had been dismissed, because even as my fingers played across her cunny, I felt her labia swell and flower, and I could feel their slickness increase.

Helena moved to me, on the other side from my wife, and she gave me a quick kiss before she leaned over and ran her hands across Arabella's back, this allowed me to caress my mother's quim in the same way that I was exploring Arabella's.

It did not last long though, Helena decided that I was hard enough, and directed me to get up so that Arabella could lie down.

"Now, William!" Helena encouraged me softly, "Now is your time, put a child into this beautiful girl. Fill her cunny with your seed and make a son with her."

"Please husband," Arabella looked me in the eye, "Give me your child."

What should a man do? Why, try his damnedest to do what he is asked, of course!

Helena took my cock and presented it to Arabella's cunny. Arabella had reached out and held Helena's other hand, so that I was connected to both women by my hard throbbing prick, it was such a sensuous picture that I nearly spent there and then. But the mission was my emission and making sure that it happened in the right place - Arabella's place. Arabella's warm, wet, waiting place that lay before me. The lips of her quim were full and opened and slick with her juices. Her cunny mound was bare - the same as Helena's - who now habitually had hers shaved, and it rose and fell with her breathing, her whole body trembled with her excitement. She raised herself on her elbow so that she could watch as I moved into place.

With a gentle push, I was seated inside Arabella, who lay back as I took my place on top of her. I looked down at my wife, who nodded her head saying that she was comfortable. Helena lay beside us, her hand was on the small of my back as if to urge me on and we were able to share kisses between the three of us.

I had to get up, get up on my knees, I wanted to get as far up inside Arabella as I could. On my knees I could grasp her by the hips and pull myself in tighter. Arabella helped, by wrapping her legs around my back and crossing her ankles. She matched each thrust with a flex of her legs and I doubt I could have penetrated her any further than I actually was.

Consider this picture then - I am fucking my wife, who is enjoying every moment of it, as we try and breed her with a Rogeringham heir, at the same time, my mother is embracing Arabella in front of me and the two are exchanging passionate kisses. Can you imagine a more lascivious picture? I cannot. However, it is also a loving picture. The woman who once worried about Arabella replacing her, is joyously amorous with her. They kiss, they fondle, they stroke each other. Helena presents her breast to Arabella who fervently suckles it, noisily, and then they exchange their roles and Helena moves her head to swirl her tongue around her daughter-in-law's red nipples. At the same time, Helena's hand makes its way down across Arabella's alabaster skin, across her belly and down between us. Even as I am fucking my wife, my mother is frigging her. Arabella takes Helena's head in both hands and draws it to her so that they can kiss, and at the same time she moans around a spend that shakes her under me.

As she stops spending, Arabella takes her left hand and pulls me down to kiss me and once again, we begin a round of kissing, where the three of us share each other's lips, exploring each other with our tongues. Then Helena urges me back to the business of making an heir.

My mother switched her focus from engaging Arabella's mouth and bubbies, and moved so that she was by my hips. She changed hands so that she was still frigging Arabella, and at the same time she began to stroke my back and hips, gliding her hand across my back and urging me on.

"Fuck her William, fill her up with your creamy cum. Spend for me, my love, shoot your jism up inside her tight quim. Do you feel him Arabella? Can you feel his hard cock pounding your girlish cunny? Do you like it there?"

"Oh yes, mother! I feel it!" Arabella moaned back, grasping at my shoulders, digging her nails into the muscles of my arm (and adding to my collection of scars, I am sure). "And I - Aaahhh! - I do love it!"

At this moment Helena moved her hand down from my back and placed it between the cheeks of my thrusting arse. In one swift movement she had impaled my bum-hole, screwing her finger up inside me. It was this act that tipped me over the edge.

"Ooooohhhhhhh!" Arabella moaned loudly as she felt my spend come down and fill her. I stiffened and went still, feeling the pulses deep in me, my new wife clung tightly to me while I orgasmed.

"Thank you, William, thank you," she said into my shoulder.

"Now you are truly man and wife!" Helena said from beside us, as she kissed us both in turn, "My son and my new daughter." She would not let us move apart, insisting that we stayed joined to give the cum the best opportunity to impregnate Arabella. It was only when my cock had gone limp and it was likely to fall out of Arabella's quim, that she would allow us to part.

I got up and poured wine for Helena and Arabella, taking a rum for myself. I did not need the strong rum; it was simply that I desired some. Of course, Arabella remarked on it, but as she had been to Portugal and understood something of a soldier's life, she did not make the error of tasting it.

"The mere smell of the stuff is enough for me," she told Helena, who smiled at her comment.

When we did actually return to the bed, there was a moment of confusion as we arranged ourself, but eventually we settled with myself in the middle and Helena on my right-hand side and Arabella on my left.

There was much light kissing and touching as we lay there and at one point Arabella went to take my cock in her mouth, she offered it to Helena, so that she too could taste it. Which she did, but she told us both, quite firmly, that if at any time, I was even close to spending, I must enter my wife and place my seed in her.

Thus, it went on for most of the night. Helena and Arabella would tease my cock, frigging it, or sucking on it - I was hard for longer than I think I have ever been, so relentless was their assault on my manhood. I, in turn, tongued both of them, at one point licking Arabella, while Helena sat on my chest kissing her daughter-in-law. I did try to fuck Helena at one point but was told that that would have to wait for another night, my wedding night was totally dedicated to Arabella and the making of an heir. The teasing went on and each time I started to feel close to cumming, Arabella would open herself to me, and I would enter her and fuck my spend up inside her.

At one point she got up on her hands and knees and I went to enter her from behind, but not before Helena had wriggled her way underneath her and they both engaged in a passionate soixante-neuf before me. With such a beautifully lascivious scene in front of me, I could not help but spend quickly, but even though it was perhaps my fourth or fifth cum, it was just as powerful as the first, if not more. As for my mother and my wife? I got off the bed and was pouring myself a drink and they continued as if I was not there.