Kenneth became so caught up in the fantasy of what was likely going to happen once his wife returned home that he failed to notice he was no longer picking daffodils and was instead reaching for a rose.
"Ouch!" he yelled before quickly pulling his arm away from the flowerbed. Lifting his hand up to inspect the damage, Kenneth saw that the torn of the rose had ripped through the flesh of the index finger on his right hand, leaving him with quite a deep cut which was bleeding more than a safe amount. Though most medical knowledge in 1817 was reserved for those with parents wealthy enough to send them off to medical college, Kenneth did have a spattering of common sense. He knew if he did not cover up this cut and stop the bleeding, he would be met with an unpleasant and rather undesirable fate.
Kenneth journeyed inside his house and made his way to the kitchen, where Anne liked to keep a role of medical bandage in a cupboard high out of the reach of Daisy (despite the fact the child could not yet walk). Opening the cupboard, Kenneth found that the roll of bandage was still full and had not been used even once. This filled him with a sense of satisfaction, as if the lack of injuries confirmed he had thus far been a successful parent. Of course, Kenneth could not spend very long feeling good about himself as the longer he paused to be proud, the more blood poured from the wound in his index finger. His white shirt and brown trousers were already stained red with blood loss as he wrapped the bandage around the cut. He wasn't positive just how much wrap was necessary or just how tight it had to be; the best he could do was just assume he had got it right when the sensation of blood seeping out of his finger slowed and eventually stopped.
Having successfully taken care of the bleeding, Kenneth's next order of business was to remove his clothes and change into one of the two other ensembles that he owned. The bloodied shirt was the first to go, although undoing the buttons was made quite difficult by the thick layer of bandage newly wrapped around Kenneth's index finger. Not wanting to spend the copious amount of time required to fully unbutton his shirt, Kenneth undid the top three buttons of the garment and began to pull it over his head. Pulling his larger than average cranium out of the shirt was no easy task, but it was a great deal less difficult than unbuttoning the shirt with an injured finger. When he finally did manage to remove his head from the shirt, Kenneth was startled by the figure that stood before him.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you,” said Mary as Kenneth tried to catch his breath. The woman was dripping wet and naked but for the towel which covered her breasts and the top quarter of her legs. "I didn't realise you were here" she went on to explain, "I thought you went to the market with Anne."
Kenneth's mouth went dry. He was obviously in a very tempting situation with a woman he was only supposed to be attracted to when his wife was around.
"I stayed here to do a spot of gardening,” he stammered as he tried desperately not to look at the perfect, shiny body before him. Mary was also experiencing her own struggle with temptation. She had been fantasying about a one on one session with Kenneth ever since she moved into the house, her most recent fantasy coming just moments before while she was in the bath. She couldn't help but notice the way the sunlight hit his chiselled torso, making it seem almost godlike in appearance.
"You have blood on your trousers" Mary pointed out. Kenneth was glad she noticed this; it had been far too long since either of them had said anything. Of course, the end of the awkward silence wasn't the only reason Kenneth was happy Mary had noticed his stained trousers; by mentioning the bloodied pantaloons, she had essentially given him license to take them off.
Kenneth clumsily unfastened his trousers and struggled to keep his balance as he attempted to step out of them.
"I'll just go and change into something else,” he declared in a poor endeavour to leave the room. He knew full well that the sight of the siren had given him an erection, and he knew full well the siren in question could see it through his tight garments. Despite this, he did not acknowledge the situation and slowly began to make his exit. However, the only way out of the kitchen which did not lead to the garden required Kenneth to pass Mary, who gently took hold of his throbbing member as he neared her.
"Mary" he began, "we can't."
Mary could understand Kenneth's reservations, but she knew it was what he wanted. She moved her face closer to his and she seductively whispered, "We must, just once."
Those softly spoken words were all Kenneth needed to hear before giving in and giving himself to Mary. With Kenneth's penis still hard in her hand, she dropped her towel and forcibly placed one of Kenneth's hands on her breasts. He couldn't deny it, Mary felt amazing in his hand; her glorious body was made even better by the fact he would not have to share it with anybody. That afternoon, in that very moment, Mary was his and his alone. Kenneth used his free hand to grab a handful of Mary's long, red hair and pulled it as hard as he could until she was looking towards the ceiling. He then stuck out his tongue and dragged from the top of her breasts to chin. He repeated this act several times before sinking his teeth into her supple neck. The young man could taste Mary's perfume as it poured into his mouth; it was delicious, she was delicious. Kenneth decided he wanted to taste more of this woman and so he used her hair to lead her over to the kitchen table, where he promptly laid her down before asking her to spread her legs. Mary was only too happy to do as her master asked and within no time at all Kenneth's tongue was moving up and down the outside of her moist vagina.
"Oh Kenneth" moaned Mary as he moved his tongue deeper. "Kenneth" she moaned again, keeping her hands busy by rubbing her breasts.
"Kenneth!" Kenneth stopped. That last voice was not the voice of Mary. It was the voice of Anne. Realising his wife had returned home earlier than expected, Kenneth jumped from the floor and turned to face her. Dazed and not entirely sure why Kenneth had stopped, Mary sat up on the table and froze when she saw Anne.
"How could you do this to me?" screamed Anne as Kenneth pleaded for her to listen to him. In an ill-advised attempt to comfort his distraught wife, Kenneth approached her while spewing apologies and took her in his arms. Suddenly, the apologies ceased and Kenneth went limp against his wife before slumping to the ground with blood gushing from his naked torso. Anne's hand shook, holding the same knife she used to cut the bread in Ms’ Tricks house. This time, however, it was not covered in butter.
Mary screamed in terror when she saw the blood covered knife being pointed towards her. Anne was not thinking straight. She had killed her husband on an impulse and was now about to kill the woman with whom he had cheated on her. Mary pushed herself backwards on the table as Anne neared her.
"Anne, have some sense" she pleaded as she realised her life was nearing its end. Her words failed to strike a chord with the knife wielding woman and so, out of sheer desperation, Mary grabbed the fruit bowl, which sat next to her on the table and hurled it towards her former lover. Anne went crashing to the ground, as did the fruit bowl following its collision with her head. For a moment, all was silent as Mary tried to make sense of what had just occurred. She walked cautiously to where Anne's body lay and investigated. She was indeed dead, as was her husband. With tears in her eyes and blood soaking her feet, Mary picked up the knife, which Anne had intended to use on her and examined it briefly before using it on herself. With one last gasp of breath, Mary fell to the ground and joined the husband and wife in the next world.
Daisy cried.
THE END
WARNING: This ebook contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This ebook is for sale to adults ONLY
Please ensure this ebook is stored somewhere that cannot be accessed by underage readers.
Copyright 2016 by Rosamund Talbot - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not
allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
By Mutual Consent
A Regency Romance Novella
By: Rosamund Talbot
By Mutual Consent
Chapter One
Duke Geoff Ballens and his wife parted amicably in the spring of 1814. With the Duke beginning his thirty-fifth year of life and the Duchess half way through her thirty-third, both had reached a point of mutual disinterest and were happy to admit that they found the idea of exploring the bodies of other men and women to be far more appealing than the prospect of living together for the next three decades, occasionally removing their clothes and forcing themselves to endure a thirty minute session of sagging breasts and chandelier-like testicles, all topped off with a semi-erect penis. Due to the fact that they were living in quite a conservative period, the Duke and Duchess agreed that it would be in their best interest if they did not seek out a legal separation. With King George's removal from the throne still relatively recent, the royal family was being closely watched by every man, woman and child in the United Kingdom and the desolation of a Duke's marriage would do little to aid the Prince Regent, who was finding it difficult enough to establish himself as a legitimate ruler. And so, the Duke and the Duchess lived in the same manor - though they kept separate chambers - and attended all balls, parties and other royal gatherings as a seemingly happy couple. Of course, had any member of the media learned of the true nature of their relationship, the Duke and Duchess would have been in a great deal of trouble indeed.
"Geoff, I do wish you would not watch the maid like that,” the Duchess told her husband one morning as they finished their breakfasts, which they usually ate together.
"Like what, my dear?"
"You know quite well what I am talking about."
"I cannot say that I do, Barbara. You wish I would not watch the maid like what?"
"Like that. With your eyes running up and down her legs as if you were observing some wonderful monument in a foreign country."
"I do not think the maid hails from outside of England, actually. I believe she was born in Essex." The Duchess rolled her eyes and rose from her seat, grabbing her cup and saucer and bringing them to the flour covered counter of the kitchen.
"Why, what is the matter?" asked the Duke, his tone of voice making him seem a little more condescending than he intended to be.
"You know what the matter is, Geoff. I have no issue with you embarking on a love affair with the maid, but please do not make it so obvious to those around you. If you keep eyeing that young girl up and down, somebody other than myself will eventually notice and you will be in quite hot water, as will the maid, as will I."
"I had not realised you were aware of my relationship with Penny" said the Duke as he left the table and joined his wife at the kitchen counter.
"Geoff, there is not the slightest chance I could not be aware of the situation. You and that girl do little, if anything, to control yourselves when you are alone in your chamber. Why, you two are so loud that I would not be surprised to learn you were hunting foxes behind that door."
The Duchess, ever the proud homeowner, swept the leftover flour from the countertop to her hand and threw it into the dustbin which sat in the corner of the room. The Duke decided it was best for him to remain silent and not attempt to engage his wife in argument for he knew she was quite correct. If anybody beyond those living in the manor were to discover his affair with the maid, or any other affair for that matter, there would be great shame brought upon not only the family name, but also the country, which so proudly boasted of its devotion to traditional values. Clapping her hands together and sending small clouds of flour into the air, the Duchess exited the kitchen and descended the stairs to her chamber, were she would spend much of the day reading books and writing letters to her various relatives. The Duke remained in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and waiting for the return of Penny, the maid, who could get him into so much trouble. There was, of course, a good reason for the wild and uncontrollable sounds that came from his chamber whenever he was in the company of the young maid. She was an insatiable sexual beast who took the Duke to the very edges of pleasure and often beyond. Often times throughout the day, the Duke would find himself replaying scenes from their encounters in his head. He could recall, with astounding accuracy, the shapes formed by her jiggling breasts as she ran naked from the chamber door to the warmth of the bed. This simple, hurried movement was enough to arouse the Duke and make him long for the feel of the girl’s breasts against his lips.
"Pardon me, madam,” said Penny as she hastily entered the room, "I did not mean to leave the counter in such a state."
"I believe the Duchess has gone up to her chamber" Geoff told the maid, who had entered the room in such a rush that she had failed to notice the absence of the woman whom she was so desperately trying to please.
"Oh, I see" she replied with an embarrassed laugh, "I was just going to clean the counter. I know how much madam hates a mess."
"You may be a little late for that, my dear. She made sure to tidy up the counter before leaving for her room."
"Oh dear, I hope she does not think any less of me for failing to do my duty." There was genuine concern in the voice of the maid. The poor financial situation of her family meant that she had to keep her job at the manor, no matter what. To be relieved of her duties at the house of the Duke and Duchess would be certain doom for her, her mother and her two young brothers.
"I cannot say in what regard the Duchess holds you. However, I can say with absolute certainty that your job at this manor is not under any threat." The Duke took the maid in his arms and laid a kiss upon her forehead.
"How can you say that?" she asked, looking at the ground as the Duke rested his chin on the top of her head.
"Because I am the master of this house and I will not hear a negative word against you."
Satisfied that she had no reason to fear for her place at the manor, the maid buried her face into the neck of her lover and inhaled his scent. She found the aroma that poured from the Duke's body to be among the most sexually stimulating things that she had ever encountered. It was an intoxicating scent of wealth, of power and of importance. The Duke was also quite fond of the perfume, which the maid had worn to work everyday since the beginning of their affair. Given that she did not have any great sum of money, the fragrance which she doused herself with each morning was not of the same quality as the perfume used by the Duchess and other wealthy women whom the Duke had come in contact with. However, the bottled aroma seemed to mix perfectly with the maid's natural scent to create something far more pleasing to the Duke's nostrils than even the finest of fine perfumes.
"I must begin cleaning the study" the maid told the Duke regretfully. "It is in need of a good dusting."
"Oh, you do not need to take time out of your day to perform such trivial tasks" he replied in a blatant attempt to convince the young woman to remain in the kitchen so she could provide him with some sexual release.
"Geoff, I do not wish to take advantage of your love. If I am to be paid for cleaning the manor, then I shall clean the manor. It takes a wretched soul indeed to swindle the people whom she so deeply cares about."
The maid grabbed the dust-covered rag that she had carelessly left on the kitchen counter before breakfast and scurried from the kitchen. The Duke, left with only himself for company, began to think about what the maid had said before leaving his presence.
"It takes a wretched soul indeed,” she proclaimed, "to swindle the people whom she so deeply cares about." These words bothered the Duke, particularly the latter half of the sentence. He had been romantically involved with the young maid for the past seven months and not once in that time had they discussed their feelings beyond sexual attraction. He was, of course, quite fond of the girl, which is why he had was willing to keep her on staff at the manor regard
less of her work ethic. But he was not quite sure if he cared about her as deeply as she had just confessed to caring for him. The prospect of falling in love again was not something that he found particularly appealing. Love, as far as the Duke was concerned, meant dedicating one's life to a single person. It meant a monogamous relationship and little to no excitement from one day to the next. Love was not what the Duke wanted and yet, he could not shake the feeling that he was beginning to fall in love with his maid.
Chapter Two
Inside her chamber, with two scented candles burning in spite of the early hour, the Duchess flipped through the pages of her tattered and torn and tea-stained notebook. In this little book, she kept the names and addresses of every man to have ever peaked her interest. It began as something of a fantasy list when she was still pretending to be in love with her husband, a gathering of men whom she would give herself to in a more perfect world. Of course, since the demise of her marriage, this notebook had become a gateway to almost instantaneous sexual release. As the Duchess was a woman of both great beauty and great power, she could send for any man in her notebook and know with near certainty that they would drop whatever they were doing and run to her. Some were married men who would creep out of their homes while their wives worked or slept, while others were married men living the same kind of open relationship as the Duchess. Some were young men, the sons of wealthy parents whom the Duchess knew through various social events. The Duchess had a great fondness for her young lovers and found great delight in sharing her sexual knowledge with them. In her experience, it was the younger men who were the more generous lovers. They were eager to learn and desperate to please, though sex with them was a far cry from what it had been with the Duke.
The Duke's Dilemma: Regency Romance Menage Short Stories Page 91