Tablake Pt. 02

Giles and I arrived at my house in Chiswick after a four- hour drive. The original idea had been that he would go on to his own house and that we should spend the rest of the day and the following day arranging our affairs independently and that he would collect me for our return to Tablake on the Monday. It didn't go quite like that. By the time we pulled up outside my house we were desperate to make love again. We hustled into the house and Giles's hands were inside my shirt almost before I had closed the door behind us. I tore at his shirt and gained his pecs. He unzipped my trousers and his own and we struggled out of them. His hands entered my panties and he grasped my clitie. His cock so tented his underpants I had to wrench them up and over his great pole to get at his head. I fell to my knees to worship his cock and suckled again on my husband's masculinity.

'I need to fuck you now,' he groaned. We sank onto the living room carpet. His fingers entered my mouth, then my cunt; then the overwhelming weight of his body was on top of me as I lay face down on the floor, my cocklet pressed into the carpet, before he took his weight onto his elbows; he opened me and entered my cunt; he paused for my vagina to accept his massive presence inside her; then he started, slowly at first, but soon building to a climax, to fuck the daylights out of me. I whimpered, then screamed, with delight as his thrusting became more and more frenzied.

'Breed me, darling. Please... please... breed me... Make your babies in me,' I cried as he rammed home his man meat. I felt my flaccid cocklet loose her milk onto the carpet as his cock shot load after load of baby batter into my womb.

His whole body slumped down onto me for a moment before he moved to one side, turned me face upwards, then lowered himself above me again so that his great body covered my slight one. So as not to crush me he took most of his weight on his elbows and knees. We lay face to face. He kissed my eyelids, my cheeks, my mouth and his tongue took possession of my mouth as his cock had taken possession of my cunt. His whole body confirmed my femininity and his own masculinity and, in my happy submission, I worshipped his dominance. I knew that, in that moment, I was the luckiest woman on earth. And, yes, I was entirely woman.

After we had dressed I made a sandwich and coffee for us in the kitchen. Our plans had changed. There was no chance that we were going to separate again so soon and no possibility for me to return to Tablake on Monday. I had to sign off a job in Surrey. I had forgotten all about it in the ecstasy of my time with Giles. Also, I needed to call a meeting with my partners to outline the Tablake job and ask them if they would prefer me to resign and do the job privately, because I should be unable to take on other work whilst this was underway, or whether they would accept me as a long-distance partner.

I was able to sign off the Surrey job late on Monday and we held our meeting on the Tuesday. When my partners understood the size of the work and the prospective fees which would accrue to the firm they were keen for me to remain with them and I was pleased to continue to have the resources of the office. I gave them Giles's Regent's Park address as my new London contact point, which raised one or two eyebrows.

After our lunch in my house I had packed my clothes, my makeup, some necessary papers, books, valuables and bits and bobs I wanted to have with me and we moved them, in our two cars, to Giles's house. It is one of the grand houses built by John Nash in the early 19th century around the then new Regent's park. Giles's is not one of the largest houses by any means but it has six bedrooms, drawing room, dining room, library and all the usual offices. I was beginning to feel like the lady of the manor. It was a bit daunting but also a great joy because I was entering into being fully the wife of my darling man.

That first night in our London home Giles asked me to dress for dinner so that he could see me fully as his woman. I did so. I wore the same blue silk dress I had put on when I had broken down weeping before I met Giles (see part 1). It was a lovely dress and I wanted to exorcise the misery of that time. I wore the same silver and pearl necklace, the same pearl earrings. When I came down the stairs Giles was waiting for me at the foot of the staircase. I took my time descending so that he would get the full benefit. His face was a picture. He looked as though he had been given the best present in the world and I was almost speechless with gratitude that the present was me.

My husband stretched out his hand as I reached the bottom step. He raised it to his lips, then turned it over and kissed my palm, then kissed upwards to my elbow, to my shoulder, to my neck and finally he pressed his lips to mine and took possession of my mouth and it was as though he was sealing a pact by which I became his wife. He was dressed in black trousers and a white shirt. The soft cotton of his shirt showed off to perfection his pecs and their big nipples. Certainly, he had a stomach but, for me, that simply made him more natural and inviting and I was in love with the great curvature of his thighs and his powerful buttocks.

He led me, almost drooling, into the dining room.

He sat me down in the hostess's chair. On the table he had placed a bowl of salad, vinaigrette, another bowl of fresh fruit salad and a platter of cheeses. A bottle of white burgundy, sitting in an ice bucket, had clearly just been taken out of the fridge. He reappeared after ten minutes with two wonderfully aromatic omelettes, which, when we cut into them, were hot and creamy and delicious. My husband sat, not at the other end of the table, as he would have done if we had visitors, but on my left hand, emphasising that this was now my house.

Giles said, 'Tomorrow I must sort out some business here. I know you have to go to Surrey and the following day to your partners' meeting. Will you be ready to go down to Tablake on Wednesday or do you need to spend more time in London?'

'I shall be ready. Whatever my partners decide I'm coming with you. Actually, I don't expect there to be a problem with them. I am their historical specialist and Tablake will be the most prestigious heritage project we have ever handled and, I regret to say, darling, the fees will be enormous.'

'Don't you think I should get something in return?'

What are you thinking of?'

'I thought I might take your clothes off you bit by bit and then fuck the architect.'

'That sounds fair exchange and I know the architect is the sort of girl who would be delighted.'

We had finished our meal and I was about to take the debris into the kitchen but my husband said, 'Don't bother with that. We have more urgent things to do. My charlady will do that in the morning.'

He led me back upstairs to our bedroom and unzipped my dress. I threw it over a chair. My husband took in a deep breath as I turned my stockinged, suspendered, pantied and bra'd form towards him. His eyes told me he loved what he saw and my self-esteem rocketed. He grasped my buttocks in his great hands and drew me towards him.

'Undress me, girly,' he commanded.

I obeyed with alacrity. First the shirt, revealing his mighty pecs and arms and the slope of his stomach, then the trousers giving me access to everything else, then, after kissing his cock through his underpants I rolled them down, once again, over the stiffening magnificence within. I nuzzled into his hairy bush, sucking his balls, licking the length of his cock and stroking my hands up the muscled glory of his behind. Suddenly he grabbed me, tore off my bra and panties, which I had had the foresight to wear outside my suspenders, threw me onto our bed on my back, raised my legs up and out and rammed his cock head into my pussy. My whole body shook with his onslaught. Lost in extasy, when I thought it would be impossible for any greater joy to exist, something magical happened. My whole former being dissolved and I became simply the sheath for his commanding cock. My womb adored her master and then, the final apotheosis, there was no longer him and me, we had become one being.

Sadly, of course, we had to come back to earth again. Things have to be done. Perhaps it is as well. I doubt if any of us could survive long in an everlasting extasy. Giles phoned Nanny Green to tell her we shouldn't be back until Wednesday. The next two mornings he and I went our separate ways until we met at home in the evening.

On the Wednesday we packed the things I should need for the next few weeks into both cars and I followed my husband on the drive north.

Nanny Green had prepared a feast for us when we arrived. We were worried that she was wearing herself out and said so. She countered that she was as strong as an ox. Rather shyly she whispered to me that she was looking forward to seeing me dressed as a lady. I told Giles and he agreed that I should go up to our bedroom straight after lunch and become the woman who was now the lady of the house. My husband moved his own clothes from the wardrobes and chests of drawers into a connecting dressing room so that I could put all my things into our room and, at his request, Nanny Green had two men move a lady's dressing table from one of the other rooms into ours. In time we should occupy Miss Janey's suite of rooms, which were infinitely feminine and which would satisfy us both in our different ways, and I set about having curtains and bed-hangings cleaned and the whole suite made habitable for a couple after so many years.

However, for the time being, we were comfortable in the masculine ambience of the rooms my husband had chosen for himself when he took over the house.

That first afternoon of our new life I dressed and made up with care. I wanted dear Nanny Green to think that I was a woman worthy of her boy. When I got up from the lunch table Giles made as though to come up with me but I pointed out that if he did we should start making love and probably Nanny wouldn't see us for the rest of the day. He took my point and busied himself with paperwork concerning the estate.

I had made sure that I shaved thoroughly before we set off from London but I checked again and smoothed my clitie once more just in case. My husband loves me to feel like satin down there. I put on white silk panties and bra, the finest denier, white, thigh-high stockings, a cream coloured linen dress with broderie anglaise details and a pair of hand-made, low-heeled shoes I had treated myself to a few weeks before. I kept my makeup simple and brushed my hair into waves to cover my ears. I added my pearl earrings but no other jewellery.

When I was ready I went to find Nanny. She was in her sitting room next to the kitchen. As soon as she saw me, she put her hands together as though about to applaud and said, 'I knew my boy would choose well. You are lovely. Oh, I wish my little girl was alive to see this day,' and she burst into tears. I put my arms around her and we rocked together gently until she pulled away and said, 'Bless you deary, but enough of my silliness. You go and give the pleasure of seeing you to your husband.'

Our scene together had disturbed me and when Giles and I met I suggested a plan. I said, 'I'm shocked that your Uncle James/Janey didn't leave anything to Nanny Green. She has spent much of her life caring for her and I think she really loved her. If we have all Janey's money wouldn't it be only fair to give Nanny some?'

My husband agreed with me and said he would have a word with her. I happened to be in the adjoining room when he approached Nanny with the suggestion of an annuity and a lump sum to buy her own house in case she wanted to retire anytime.

I heard Nanny cry, 'Do you and madam want to send me away?'

I rushed in to assure her that that was not the case. Between us Giles and I managed to explain our thinking and she sat down, her lovely old face a mixture of tears, shock and, later, laughter.

'Of course, I loved Janey. Although she was twenty years older than me, I came to think of her as my daughter and she considered me to be her mother. She worried about my future, in case she died; every Christmas and birthday she put money into my bank account. Ten years ago I bought a house in Brighton and made it into an hotel for ladies like my Janie. It's run by a lovely couple, not unlike you two, and pays me good returns, and I have shares Janey bought for me in all sorts of stuff I don't really understand. So she didn't need to leave me anything; she'd given me as much as I shall want whilst she was alive. But Tablake is my home. Don't send me away.'

Giles said, 'Nanny, this is your home as long as you want it and I hope you'll want to be with us for the whole of your life. We shall need some extra help to run the house properly but you will be in charge, under my wife, of directing the internal staff.'

We settled down; we appointed a cook and butler; Nanny was renamed house steward, a post which usually only much grander houses than Tablake would have, but it meant that she was above the butler whereas a housekeeper would not have been. Nanny became my de facto lady's maid as well, as she had been for Janey, and our unconventional household arrangements worked well on the whole. We recruited two maids from the village and some part-time cleaners. Walter Lang, the gardener, who had made such a good job of the topiary, was confirmed as head gardener and as, over the next months, we cleared the prefabs away and started to restore the gardens, Giles appointed two more men to help him.

You may ask what was my job in all this activity. I was the architect in charge of the renovation of this large, important piece of architectural history. However, my main job in fact, if not in theory, was keeping my husband sexually satisfied, a full- time business if ever there was one, and one to which I was devoted. I also discussed menus with cook and supported Nanny in any demarcation disputes around the house. So I was kept busy.

Nanny soon regarded me as a substitute daughter. She would run me a bath after Giles and I had had a particularly energetic night and sit on a stool bedside the bath making clucking noises as I bathed my clitie and my pussy. On one occasion when he had made me bleed a little, not because he was violent, please don't imagine that, but because (and here is a bit of unromantic reality) I had a small internal haemorrhoid, she saw the pink water and said, indignantly, 'I shall speak to Giles. He has no business hurting my little girl like that.'

I calmed her down and made her understand that women like me often had such problems and it wasn't my husband's fault. I also tried to convince her that I enjoyed sex as much as my husband did but I don't think I ever quite succeeded in that. Looking back I find it extraordinary that darling Nanny, a woman of little or no sexual experience, should help me to bathe so intimately, all the while crooning to me as though I were her baby girl. It did not seem to occur to her that these were male organs I owned. She would hand me my clothes, help me with my stockings, brush my hair and she and I were two women together, almost mother and daughter, and she was happy.

Giles and I restored Tablake. The nineteenth century monstrosity and the twentieth century prefabs were swept away. We have ended up with a large, beautiful but manageable house. Doves once more inhabit the seventeenth century dovecote. Fruit and vegetables and flowers for cutting fill the kitchen garden. I gave up my architectural practice once Tablake was complete. Now I am just a housewife ministering to the needs of my happily demanding husband.

We spend, on average, about a week each month in London. Most of Giles's import business, for that is how he earned his living before he inherited Janey's money, he can run at a distance, using phone and internet, but he likes to keep personal contact with his staff and he says it pays to do so. We rent out my little house in Chiswick and live in the Regent's Park house. One fine autumn morning of sunshine and blustery winds we walked into the Marylebone Register Office as the people we had been born and emerged as a married couple.

It may sound strange, living as we do in a wonderful house with treasures gathered over many generations, but my husband and I lead a very simple life. At home at Tablake, Giles, Nanny and I are a family. She has her own apartment on the second floor and a sitting room on the ground floor but she spends most evenings with us. Nanny joins us watching television or listening to music or sitting reading. She is always busy sewing or knitting and I wonder how she manages to do that and follow the plots of some of the plays and the detective stories we watch. At present I am supposed not to know that a remarkably ugly runner which she is embroidering is intended for my dressing table as a birthday present for me. I shall go into raptures over it and shall have to see it every day of my life but it will be worth it to see the pleasure on Nanny's face.

Sometimes Giles likes to dance. We put on some music in the medieval hall, which has a beautifully smooth stone floor. He takes me in his arms and guides me through a waltz or a quickstep. We always do ballroom dancing of one sort or another. He is amazingly light on his feet and I adore being swept along, feeling the strength of his massive body bearing me up as though I don't need the floor at all. Actually he could easily carry me about in his arms and from time to time he does exactly that, but not when Nanny is watching, because it always ends in his making love to me.

Lately he seems to have become fixated on my breasts. There are times when we are dancing slowly and he unzips my dress, unlooses my bra and fondles my pecs; he takes my nipples between his fingers and thumbs then sinks to his knees to suckle on me and I feel instinctively that he has become the baby I so much want to bear to him.

Last night I lay curled up, naked, between his massive thighs, moving his great balls about in my mouth and stroking to life the cock which rules my life. He ran his fingers through my hair then seized me under my arms and pulled me up to lie on his chest.

'Naughty girl,' he said. 'See what you've done to your husband,' indicating his growing cock. 'What shall I do with you?'

But, actually, he knew what to do perfectly well.