"Take that off" said the Duke as he tore himself away from the arms of Marie, "I want to see you naked."
"Yes, sir" she replied and she raised her right foot so she could unfasten the strap on her shoe. Edward watched on in anticipation, he could feel himself getting harder as Marie tossed her shoes aside and began to remove her stockings. She did this slowly, sensually. She knew the Duke was watching her and she wanted to give him a show; she had heard the stories and was aware that he liked his women to be elegant. Once she pulled her stockings from both legs, Marie slowly ran both hands up her right leg. There was something about touching her own smooth legs that sent a shiver down her spine and made her all the more eager for a man to take her delicate body and make her his own. Her left hand dropped to her side as she reached the top of her leg, but she allowed her right hand to travel a little bit further and linger between her legs for just the right amount of time. Seeing the maid touch herself like that made Edward even harder and he could not resist joining in on the self-pleasuring. He unbuttoned his outrageously expensive trousers and took himself in his hands. Marie also busied herself in the task of unbuttoning as she undid the six buttons, which sealed her body from the world.
Edward ceased massaging his penis when he saw Marie's uniform crack open. He could not quite believe his eyes when he saw that beneath the black cloth of her work clothes, she was totally naked.
"Do you always work like that?" he asked, swallowing mid-sentence to dispose of the lump in his throat.
"Only during warmer months'" Marie replied with a smirk, "sometimes, if nobody is home, I like to work completely naked." With this, the youthful seductress slid her arms from the maid's uniform and allowed it to drop to the ground with a gentle thud, the kind made by clothes with heavy, metal buttons. If the Duke had not already been rendered speechless by what he had just heard, the sight of Marie's naked body would have taken away every syllable in his vocabulary. She just seemed so perfectly formed that he could not find a suitable adjective to describe her. Her skin was snow white, with the exception of the red patch on her neck, which had been left by Edward's teeth. Her breasts were not particularly large, but they were firm and well rounded and fit perfectly within the outline of her body. The wide-eyes of the Duke travelled from Marie's breasts to the perfect curves, which served as pillars to her already moist vagina. He looked on, excited and anxious, as the maid brought the dainty fingers of her hand to that most precious spot between her legs and began to slowly rub it. With her free hand, she clutched the banister as she gyrated her body against the staircase. "Come take me now" she urged the Duke.
Edward had somehow managed to remain clothed throughout this whole ordeal and so he very quickly slipped his feet from his shoes and stepped out of his already-unfastened trousers. Having been anticipating a sexual encounter with Katy that morning, he too had not donned any undergarments at the beginning of the day and so as soon as he removed his pants, his throbbing manhood was visible, though it was partly covered by his un-tucked cotton shirt. Of course, it did not remain obstructed for long as Edward wasted little time in tearing the shirt from his body as a soldier tears a bandage from a healed wound. The second Edward was out of his inhibiting clothes, Marie launched herself from the staircase to his body, her momentum carrying both her and her lover to the parallel wall. Their lips met once again, somehow even more intense than before.
With one hand firmly grasping the bare buttocks of his maid and lover, Edward snatched a handful of Marie's hair and pulled her head back. Though she was now facing the ceiling and unable to see what was going on, the young woman quivered when she felt the wetness of the Duke's warm tongue on her neck. It moved up and down the space between her sternum and her jaw, making her skin glisten with saliva. Slowly, Marie felt Edward's tongue leave her neck and retreat back into his mouth. She was a little disappointed to no longer feel the warm yet cooling sensation of his spit being spread over her neck, perhaps even a little nervous that the Duke had stopped because he realised their encounter was inappropriate. However, all these nerves and apprehensions were put to rest when Marie felt Edward's mouth return to her neck, more forcibly this time, and his sharp, white teeth dig into her flesh. Though she was not exactly a "pure" woman, Marie had never been with a lover as intense and as animalistic as the one she was with at that moment. His teeth sank deeper and deeper into her skin, turning the echoing hallway into a concert hall for her symphony of moans.
With his mouth still pressed against Marie's neck and his teeth still deep within her flesh, the Duke leisurely moved his free hand to that spot between her legs. He could feel how moist she was; how desperate she was to feel him inside of her. If the feel of her juices on his fingers did not tell Edward that Marie was ready for him, the sound of her pleas for him to enter her would.
"Please" she said through her deep breaths and sighs, "please, I need you now." He grabbed Marie's hair again and, placing his previously engaged hand on her lower back, guided her gently to the hallway floor. He too was desperate for the pleasurable release only the feel of flesh on flesh could bring but he had far greater control over his body than the maid had over hers. As she twitched and shook and quivered with the delight of the moment, the strong, confident frame of the Duke made only the movements he intended it to. The body of Edward's female lover was steadily eclipsed by his shadow as he finally brought his body to the cold ground of the manor. Throbbing, he lay on top of her and returned his teeth to the flesh of her neck. Marie stuck her long nails into his back and he dragged his mouth from her neck to her shoulder to her breasts. She could not wait even a moment longer; she needed the feel of the Duke's immense member moving to and from her convulsing body, in and out of her moistened vagina. With a firm hand and strength unbecoming of a girl of her age and size, Marie grabbed the Duke's penis and led and placed it between her legs. Of course, Edward was caught off guard by such a sudden move, but being caught off guard is not always a bad thing. He didn't fight the hand of the lady as she continued to lead his member wherever she pleased; instead, he allowed her to command him and direct him until, finally, he felt himself enter her.
The inside of Marie's body was as smooth and as warm as the outside, making it easy for the Duke to move himself in and out at his own pace. The moans of the maid filled the manor once again, this time accompanied by the moan's of Edward, who was fast approaching orgasm. He had never been with a woman like Marie before. Her thin build gave her a unique ability to move her body into new positions at a rapid pace, as if she were a Greek goddess, changing form to enhance her pleasure. He continued to move in and out of her, allowing everything but the tip of his penis to exit her before re-entering her with a push and a moan.
"Faster" begged Marie, her face covered by her own rouge hair, "please, faster." Edward, the unselfish lover that he was, was more than happy to oblige and soon was performing at twice the speed he had been pleasuring Marie just moments prior. The moans of the girl grew louder and louder until they resembled screams more than moans. These screams of pleasure, in which the Duke was also participating, persisted for about thirty seconds before both man and woman felt their bodies drain of the liquids which turned them from Duke and maid to a sexually charged pair of animals. The Duke rolled from Marie's body and lay down beside her, panting and sweating, possibly even still moaning.
Back in the dining room, still clutching a glass of wine tightly in his hand, Edward was brought back to present time by a clear but at first indistinguishable sound. He glanced around the room and found himself to be alone; the help were all busy with their work and the Duchess was likely still locked away in her chamber, projecting her sorrows onto fictional characters. The noise came again, this time louder and more distinguishable. It was the rumbling of the Duke's own empty stomach. He had been lost in his thoughts for so long that he had completely forgotten to feed himself.
"I had better have the butler bring me some food" he thought to himself before calling out "Francis! Francis!
" No reply came and the Duke was left sitting in silence once again, occasionally interrupted by the sound of his hollow stomach begging to be filled. "Francis!" he called once again, unable to understand why the butler was not answering his yells of starvation. He flung himself back in his chair and sipped from his near empty glass. At this moment, just when he had given up all hope of his butler serving him a platter of hunger-ending snacks, a thought occurred to Edward. He sat straight in his chair and cleared his throat before opening his mouth and echoing throughout the manor "Craig!"
THE END
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The Accidental Duke
Regency Romance
By: Rosamund Talbot
The Accidental Duke
Chapter 1
The year 1816 had been a tempestuous one for Kenneth Crawley, the son of a beloved but insolent Duke. It was at the beginning of this year that he turned twenty years of age and was almost instantly faced with a barrage of adult situations and mature challenges to overcome. Firstly, in January of that year - less than a week after celebrating his birthday - he was forced into marriage with an attractive but capricious young woman by the name of Anne Mayors. The wedding came at the behest of the young lady's father, who was so appalled to learn his that daughter had been impregnated by Kenneth outside of wedlock that he briefly considered taking a gun to the young man's house and putting a bullet through his heart. Ultimately, however, Mr. Mayors decided to put Kenneth's heart to better use. Enraged as he was, the elder Mayors was a sensible individual and knew it would be better for his child and grandchild if Kenneth was around to provide for them and so a wedding was arranged before news of the unplanned pregnancy could spread throughout London. Despite the underlining misery which comes along with forcible wedlock, the wedding was a joyous occasion and members of both families made sure to interact with each other and make merry while consuming quite a bit more alcohol than they could handle. Even Kenneth and his new bride derived some sort of enjoyment from the affair and when the words "I love you" passed the young man's lips, they weren't entirely false.
As January turned into February and brightly coloured leaves began to decorate the previously bare trees, Kenneth Crawley began to settle into married life. It certainly wasn't the wedded bliss he had heard of as a child, but there was something about the modest, rustic ring on his finger, which gave him a great sense of pride. It was a symbol of his status as a provider for his young wife and impending infant. Besides, he could have been forced to marry far worse women than Anne Mayors. Kenneth's satisfaction wouldn't last long however, and it was during an unusually warm spring evening that news of a devastating development was delivered to him; his mother had passed away. Kenneth had always been very close to his mother and her passing nearly caused him to suffer a complete and total breakdown. Fortunately, the grieving son had his wife by his side to comfort him and help him cope with the loss. It was during this time of mourning that a legitimate relationship began to develop between Kenneth and Anne. Her companionship in the weeks and months following that most unpleasant February served to renew Kenneth's sense of hope for the future. Kenneth's father, however, did not have his wife to help him adapt to the loss; after all, it was his wife who had departed. The ageing widower just could not get used to waking up alone every morning. The silence of his once bustling house served as a constant reminder of how empty his days had become, and it was in August 1816 - six months following the death of his beloved wife - that Kenneth's father blew out all the lamps in his house and took his own life.
The loss of one parent is bad enough but, as Kenneth discovered, losing both parents in the space of six months was nearly too much to withstand. Once again, the only thing that prevented the young man from withdrawing into a world of eternal darkness was the support of his loving wife. By the time his father's passing occurred, Kenneth and Anne had grown rather fond of each other. The expectant father loved coming home to his wife each day and sometimes he was so in love that it seemed like there was nothing the soft touch of her hand couldn't heal; that included the depressing thought that neither of his parents would ever get to hold their grandchild.
Though the loss of his father came as another devastating blow (albeit not quite as surprising), Kenneth did manage to find a small ray of positivity in the departure. The young man, at just twenty years of age, now held the prestigious position of a Duke and his wife the position of Duchess. He wasn't exactly sure what this meant and he wasn't positive where he stood in regards to the throne (especially during such a bizarre time for the monarchy); but what Kenneth did know was that the position and acclaim could not have come at a better time.
"Oh, just think of all we can do now that we're royals" Anne would say multiple times a day. For several weeks, she did not bring up the topic of money or ranking out of respect for her husband's loss, but once she felt enough time had passed for them to talk about the inheritance she found it difficult to discuss anything else. "We can have a goose for the baby's first Christmas." Kenneth did not like to consider himself a royal. While he was technically in the bloodline, he had no relationship with the King or Prince Regent. In fact, he doubted either of those men knew he existed. If they did, they certainly didn't make it known during his period of mourning.
While some renovations were being made to the medium sized estate which Kenneth and Anne were due to move into by 1818, the young couple took a nice temporary house on the centre of London for their home. The thought of a life in a house as close to a palace as one could get, excited Anne so much that she did not care to talk about anything else, even after the mid-wife had been called. The soon-to-be mother lay on her straw mattress, tightly clutching the hand of her husband, and gleefully outlined her plans for parties and elaborate banquets, which she would throw as soon as their new house was complete. The sound of Anne's incessant planning for the future continued for some time until she was interrupted by the sound of a baby crying.
"It's a girl,” declared the mid-wife before holding the baby up for the new parents to see.
"A girl" thought Kenneth as his heart filled with admiration for his wife and child, "how absolutely perfect."
Yes, the year of 1816 had indeed been a tempestuous one, but the birth of Kenneth's first child made up for all he had lost during those bleak months.
The young man took his newborn daughter in his arms and rocked her back and forth as he looked out the bedroom window to the dew covered grass of his overgrown garden. His eyes filled not only with tears, but also with an unrelenting determination to provide for his family. 1816 had made him a man and 1817 was going to be his year.
Chapter 2
Kenneth, unlike many married men of his time, did not keep a mistress. He was a dedicated family man and he was perfectly content in his marriage with Anne. The birth of Daisy - which is what they named their daughter - had little to no affect on their sex life. The baby would usually be fast asleep by sundown, leaving the young couple plenty of time to fulfil their carnal urges. How enjoyable were those cold winter nights in January 1817! Kenneth would watch from the fireside as his elegantly dressed wife elegantly undressed, revealing to him the full extent of her beauty. With her soft, delicate skin illuminated by the glow of the flame, Anne would turn her pale back to Kenneth and anxiously await the moment that her husband would
come up behind her and cup her breasts in his hands. Anne loved the feel of her husband's powerful hands on her breasts, massaging them and pinching her hardening nipples. Sometimes, he would make Anne moan with pleasure by simply running his tongue down her spine; the sensation of his warm saliva on her skin made Anne's knees weak with delight. If Anne were not sent to her knees by a wave of sexual excitement, the gentle push of Kenneth's hand on her head would let her know it was time to kneel. She didn't mind taking orders such as th0se from Kenneth. The idea of being someone's slave only served to arouse the young lady further. Within seconds of kneeling before her husband, Anne would be making him moan just as he had done when he gently licked her twitching back. Kenneth's heart would beat faster and faster as he felt his wife's tongue slide over the tip of his penis, her expert hands pulling his person at just the right pace until finally he could stand it no longer.
Clearly, Kenneth had no need for a mistress. The same, however, could not be said for his wife. Anne loved the man to whom she was married but he just could not fulfil her. He could turn her on and make her shake with excitement, but he would always climax long before her; often times he would even fall asleep by the fireside, leaving the young woman to satisfy herself. On those nights, Anne would quietly put her clothes back on before grabbing a cloak and slipping out the door into the cold and indifferent night. The streets of London are rarely a safe place for a lone woman to walk and the dark of the night did not make them any less dangerous. Despite the obvious threats, Anne was never frightened. She had made this journey many times before. It would take her a little over ten minutes to get to the house of Mary Mine.
The Duke's Dilemma: Regency Romance Menage Short Stories Page 20