Finally, the Duke managed to undo the pesky buttons of the maid's uniform and to raise his hands to gently pull it downwards, freeing her arms and revealing to him her bare back. He ran his tongue down her spine, much like he had done to her neck, and made her moan with anticipation. She desperately wanted the Duke to fully remove her uniform and lay her on the wooden floor of the pantry before proceeding to enter her with his eager and sizeable member, yet she also did not want the sensation of his tongue sliding up and down her back to come to an end. Having used his tongue to trace Deirdre's spine from her neck to her lower back, the Duke returned to an upright position, still with the maid's back turned to him. He placed his hands on her thighs, which were still covered by her partially removed uniform, and he began to softly tug at the fabric until it was sliding down her delicate legs. She raised her feet, one by one, and kicked away the black cloth, happy to be free of it for however long it would take for her and the Duke to bring each other to climax. Being out of that stuffy uniform was always a bonus of her relations with the lord of the manor, though she never got to be free of it for long enough (nor did she ever get to stay in her partner's company for long enough). Now that she was bare but for her undergarments, Deirdre turned in the Duke's arms and brought herself to face him, her face enhanced by eyes full of yearning and a cheeky smile which skewed to the right when she bit her bottom lip.
Their lips met once again, this time tongues were employed right away, along with much grabbing and massaging and petting. Jacob took Deirdre's bottom lip, the one that she had been chewing on, between his teeth and obliged to her repeated requests to bite her harder. The young lady placed her hands on the lapels of the Duke's jacket and pushed it from his torso, sending it to the ground, as if it were a jacket which had not been custom made by the finest seamstress in all of London. Jacob did not mind watching his jacket fall to the ground, in fact, he quickly allowed his expensive (though not quite as expensive) shirt to be torn from his body and sent hurdling to the ground to join in. With a naked chest, he began to tear off the undergarments of the maid, exposing her breasts, which were the perfect size and shape topped off with hard nipples just waiting to feel his mouth on them. The maid pulled the Duke’s head downwards and sank her teeth into his neck, much like he had done to her, and continued to sink her fangs deeper into his skin as he unfastened the final piece of clothing, which separated her nude body from his. With a level of strength only possible when one is insatiably aroused, Jacob pulled the entire string from Deirdre's underwear in one movement, causing the thin, white cloth to float to the ground. Now she was naked. Now she was all his.
Jacob raised one hand, filling it with the hair of the maid, clutching it tightly before pulling her head from his neck. For a moment, the pair made eye contact and the Duke could see just how badly Deirdre wanted him to be inside her. There was lust in her eyes; it ran throughout her entire body and sent her into mild convulsions, which could only be cured by the feeling of his rigid penis connecting with the glans of her vagina as he entered and re-entered her.
"Please" she began in a trembling voice which at first appeared to be a whisper but increased in volume as she spoke, "please take me now." Jacob took her wrists in his hands and pushed her to the wall before telling her "not yet." Holding her body firmly against the wooden wall of the pantry, the Duke lowered his head to his lover's breasts and took the nipple of her right breast in his mouth. It was already hard, but he could feel it harden even more once he began to grind it between his teeth and tickle it with the tip of his tongue. Deirdre moaned and struggled to stay still. Her body shook every time Jacob's tongue grazed the top of her nipple, but that did not matter as he still held her in his grasp and was not about to let go. He guided both of her harms upwards, as if she were a clock running in reverse, until they met. Now, the Duke took both of Deirdre's wrists in his left hand and dropped his right hand to the spot between her legs and moved it in the same circular motion as he had done previously; however, this time there was nothing to prevent him from sliding his finders inside her.
"Please, put your fingers inside me," pleaded the maid though a number of high and low sighs; she could not stand any more of Jacob's teasing and needed to feel him inside her, even if it was only his fingers. The Duke obliged and placed two fingers just inside the confines of her vagina. She shook upon entry and continued to do so as he pushed his fingers farther inside her before bringing them back out repeating the action. As he busied his fingers, Jacob still held the maid's nipple between his teeth. There was something about the feeling of Deirdre's nipple in his mouth, between his teeth and against his gums, which Jacob found extremely arousing. It was made all the more erotic by the moans of his woman; he loved to know she was experiencing such pleasure and that he was the one causing it. It may have been egotistical to a degree, but it resulted in a great deal of satisfaction for any woman he had ever been with. Finally, he opened his jaws and released the nipple before standing upright and bringing his lips to the lips of the quivering woman before him. He continued to pleasure her with his fingers while he still used his left hand to bind his lover to the wall. Now it really was a struggle for her to experience such intense feelings of pleasure and remain on her feet, something that was clear to the Duke. Relieving both of his hands from their duties, Jacob placed his left palm against the rear end of his lady and used his right hand to push her gently to the ground.
Deirdre lay on the wooden floor of the pantry, her hair spread out across the cracks like the rays of the sun and her legs twitching as her hands picked up where the Duke had left off. She pleasured herself as she watched him slip off his shoes and remove his trousers, followed by his undergarments in what must have been record time.
"Come to me" she begged as he stood before her, touching himself and watching her as she did the same. He obeyed and brought his body down to her, kissing her neck for good measure before raising his back and pushing his throbbing penis into that glorious space between her shapely legs. The pantry shook as Jacob pushed himself into Deirdre before drawing back out only to push himself into her once again. Both man and woman moaned and sighed and professed their love for one another, clinging tightly to each other's body did so. Then, it came to an end.
The couple reached climax together and the Duke almost immediately rose from the ground. No longer blinded by wild desire, the sensible married man began to pick up his clothes and dress himself without saying a word to the maid. He was always so kind to her, but for those five minutes after each sexual encounter, he was cold and unappealing.
"Are you going back to the party now?" she asked, not expecting any other answer than one to the positive.
"Yes. I have to."
"May I take a moment to gather my thoughts?"
"Yes. Take the rest of the night off if you want to."
"But I don't want to take the rest of the night off."
"Then don't."
With this, the Duke brushed the dust away from the shoulders of his jacket and opened the door to the pantry before stepping back out into the real, and all too cruel, world.
THE END
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The Duke’s Intended
Regency Romance
By: Rosamund Talbot
The Duke’s Intended
Chapter One
&n
bsp; In the spring of 1812, Stanley turned thirty years of age. He had now lived what could conceivably be half of his life and had spent the past six years as a Duke. Though he was, and had always been, a little gullible and perhaps too easily led, Stanley was beloved by the people of England and even maintained a distant but friendly relationship with the Prince Regent. Beloved as he was, the Duke had made it to thirty without taking a woman for his wife, which was beginning to raise a few eyebrows around the Kingdom. It was indeed a curious thing for any man, much less a Duke, to arrive at such a stage in his life without a woman by his side; generally, there was only one explanation for such a thing. However, contrary to what the murmurs suggested, Stanley was not a homosexual, which was fortunate, as the world at this time did not take kindly to men lying with other men. In fact, the Duke's thirtieth birthday also served as the third anniversary for he and his girlfriend, Marisa. Stanley had first met Marisa when she was among the five extra maids hired to clean his sizeable manor before, during and after his twenty-seventh birthday celebrations. Though the butler had ensured the Duke would have no contact with any of the help, the new twenty-seven year old found himself eyeing Marisa several times throughout the night and, when he finally realised that she had been instructed no to talk to him, took it upon himself to approach her and strike up a conversation.
"Hello," he said to the mysterious maid before extending a shaky hand, "I'm Stanley". Unsurprisingly, Marisa was taken aback by the Duke endeavouring to engage her in conversation and did not immediately reply. Instead, she continued to swipe the crumbs left by various expensive foods from the table into her hand. Undeterred, Stanley introduced himself once again, this time adding, "What's your name?" Shyly, Marisa introduced herself, keeping one eye on the Duke and one eye on her work.
"You know, you can talk to me" he told her in an attempt to rouse some conversation out of the maid.
"The butler said we're not supposed to,” replied Marisa, slightly suspicious that the Duke was only talking to her as part of some cruel rich person game. Stanley laughed at the thought that the butler's demands could outrank his own and advised the young girl not to listen to the grey-haired old fool. "How long have you been working?" he proceeded to ask.
"All night, sir."
"All night? You must be hungry. Would you like something to eat?" The conversation continued in this dull, formal way for some time until the Duke finally seemed to break through to the woman by asking her about her plans for the future. From the end of this question, Marisa spoke to the Duke with a twinkle in her eye, usually reserved only for children on Christmas Eve, which would remain not only until the end of the night, but for the next three years of her life.
Within the first four months of their relationship, Stanley knew that he wanted to make Marisa his wife, and she knew that she would say yes if she were asked to marry the Duke. However, the lord of the manor was reluctant to pose any such question for one simple reason: in the eyes of the royal family, Marisa was nothing more than the help. She was a common girl who had no place in the life of a Duke beyond folding his many socks or dusting his marble mantles. For a time of such political and social change, it was indeed strange that these extreme class divisions still existed, but they did and that was that. Even the Prince Regent, who was quite the open minded individual, would not entertain any idea that a member of the help was somehow on the same level of humanity as a member of the royal family. No, any announcement of his engagement to a maid would spell almost certain doom for Stanley and his time as a Duke.
Though he had tried his very best to make it clear to Marisa that no wedding could take place until a greater class system existed in the United Kingdom, the young girl still refused to give up on the idea of marrying her love, whom she lived with disguised as a live-in maid. For two and a half years (it took the couple six months to have their first discussion of marriage), Marisa would bring up the topic on a weekly basis. "But why does it matter what anybody else thinks?" she would ask the Duke as he tried his best to walk away from the conversation.
"Because I could be stripped of my status,” he would answer when suitably pressed. Without fail, Marisa would always reply by telling her lover that they did not need wealth or status to be happy, they only needed the love of each other. On some occasions, Stanley would storm away in frustration at this point in the conversation and spend the rest of the day in his study on the second floor. However, he would usually reply by saying "That's what you think now, but just wait until we don't have any money. We won't have any place to live and we won't have any food to eat all because you wanted to have a ring on your finger." Whenever the couple reached this point in the argument, Marisa would be the one storming off, and it would not be in frustration. She would speed away from the Duke with tears in her eyes and attempt to busy herself with some mundane household chore, which she would ultimately give up on within minutes. She could never understand why the man she loved so much did not want to make their love official.
Of course, with age comes wisdom and, often times, the realisation that all the money in the world holds no value over true love. As his thirtieth birthday approached, Stanley found himself thinking more and more about what really matters in life. It dawned on him, much later than it should have, that he absolutely had to get down on one knee and propose to Marisa. He was aware that he had been far from the perfect boyfriend over the past three years and knew that if he waited much longer, there was a significant chance that the girl would pack her bags and leave him for somebody who would share his name with her. And so it was on a warm spring evening at the manor that the Duke removed a glittering wedding band from his breast pocket and placed it on the dining table before his girlfriend as she guzzled down the final drops of wine from her cup. When the young girl lowered her glass and beheld the ring that brightly shone in front of her, it was a moment of romance that would not be bested even a century later when Hollywood would make such moments common place.
Though she was too stunned to give a verbal answer to the question (which was never verbally asked), Marisa soon made her response clear when she rose from her seat at the opposite end of the dining table, walked slowly to Stanley and took his thin face in her cupped hands before leaning towards him and placing her sweet lips against his. To the best of his memory, this was the first time Stanley had ever been involved in any sort of romantic situation with Marisa outside of his chamber. With two other maids and a butler seemingly always around, it was far too risky for the two to express their love in any other part of the manor. However, the Duke had given all members of the help whom he wasn't planning on proposing to the night off in anticipation of what was going to occur after dinner and so he was more than happy to rise from his seat and take Marisa in his arms, still holding his lips to hers. He held his love tightly as the kiss evolved from a soft peck of appreciation to a steamy, passion driven affair of much tongues and saliva. Though Marisa had not changed from her maid's uniform before the dinner, she had managed to find some time to clean herself up and cover her body with a nice coat of perfume which was now wafting through Stanley’s nostrils and entering his brain, making him wild with desire. With hands moving faster than he could think, the Duke began to unfasten the single button at the top of Marisa's uniform, which served to keep her from pouring out of the garment. When she felt the hands of her lover endeavouring to remove her from her clothing, Marisa placed her hands on his shoulders and gently pulled herself away before saying "perhaps we should go to the chamber." Much like his fiancée had reacted when asked to marry him, Stanley replied to this suggestion by engaging Marisa in another passionate kiss. The maid spoke once again, this time omitting only a sigh, which contained a half-hearted attempt to say "very well", inhibited mostly by the sense of pleasure she was feeling at the time.
Stanley managed to undo the button without any further protest from his soon-to-be wife and all but tore the clothes from her body in one movement. He took a step back for a moment, eager to take
in the sight of his fiancée as she stood in nothing but her undergarments. Now that she was out of that uniform, Stanley no longer saw a maid. The person who stood before him was a woman of great beauty; powerful, yet not without a trace of delicacy and worthy of wearing any crown the Kingdom had to bestow upon her.
"You look wonderful,” said Stanley with a lump forming in both his throat and trousers.
"There is plenty more to look at" Marisa replied as the twinkle in her eye was replaced by a look of mischief and her lips took the shape of a cheeky grin. She had never said anything like this before; such suggestive sentences were a far cry from her usual arsenal of words and phrases. Then again, this night was a night of firsts. She had never before been proposed to; she had never before kissed the Duke outside of his chamber and she had never before been naked in the manor's dining room. Two out of those three things had changed already and Marisa was about to make it three for three.
The Duke's Dilemma: Regency Romance Menage Short Stories Page 84