This Bird Has Flown

This is the third time this week he's seen her staring across the street at the gentlemen's club. She gets closer every time, but after a while she keeps walking in the other direction, back to where she came from. It's quite unusual, a lady, because she's clearly a lady, judging by her dress and the way she moves, walking down the street unaccompanied in this neighborhood.

The next day he sees her again, she looks at him appraisingly and decides to take the plunge. She crosses the street and stands indecisively in front of him six feet away.

He looks at her kindly and asks, 'Is there anything I can help you with, ma'am?' Their eyes meet, a spark immediately jumps over, she doesn't know what to make of it at that moment.

'I, uh,' she says hesitantly, 'I was wondering if my husband is here and what he is doing all day.'

Jonathan feels sorry for her, apparently another one of those child brides married off because of their attractive dowry or much wanted title, who are then locked up in a nice house and left to spend their days in loneliness.

'Can you tell me his name ma'am, then I can ask inside if he wants to come to you, of course you can't go in,' he looks at her apologetically.

She mentions her husband's name, but then changes her mind, he might not appreciate that she went to the gentlemen's club on her own, and he already has such a short fuse.

He sees her hesitance and decides to wait for her next move.

'Never mind,' she mutters, her eyes downcast, 'I'd better go, I'll see him tonight.'

'As you wish, ma'am,' he says kindly and with a gallant bow. 'May I get someone to escort you home?'

'No, thank you, it's very kind of you, but I'll get home by myself.' She gives him a sweet smile and shyly lowers her eyes again.

Then she walks on, he looks after her, it is a beautiful image, the enormous amount of fabric of the dress with bustle, and the wide cloak that she has wrapped tightly around her, cannot hide the fact that she has an attractive figure. A bunch of beautiful copper red curls peek out from under the cute little hat. She seems very young, barely 19 by the looks of it. Her husband is at least twice her age, he knows, he recognized her husband's name. Not the most pleasant club member, always finding something to criticize and very quick to anger. It wouldn't surprise him if he's a wife beater, such men like to take it out on defenseless women. He knows enough stories about it, because behind the club, in a separate bar area, a number of women work, primarily in the service, but for gentlemen who want something more than a chat and a drink among themselves, the ladies are also available for another kind of entertainment. The ladies often complain about this guy, they regularly get bruises when he visits.

He notices that she is not walking back the same way, but is heading in the direction of the park with adjacent forest. Oh well, she probably wants to enjoy her freedom for a while, the weather is nice for it. He returns to his duties as host and guard of the club's entrance. Another half hour and then his shift will be over, he hopes that his relief will be there in time this time.

Isolde has indeed decided that she can still look at the walls of her prison long enough today, it is like a gilded cage in which she is locked up, she reflects sadly. She is bored to death, the whole day consists of needlework, reading mainly devotional works, and social visits to or from boring, superficial women, only of her own standing, of course, who never have anything interesting to say. She fondly thinks back to her childhood in the countryside, on her parents' vast estate. The fun they had, she and her siblings, playing with the wait staff's children, and no one ever said a word about it not being appropriate.

And from one day to the next it happened, they had found a suitable partner for her, a man of distinction, she herself was not known in anything. It all went very fast, only on the wedding day did she find out that the man she was going to marry could have been at least her father in terms of age. They've been married for a year now, once a week he digs his way through her skirts and undergarments and fidgets between her legs, then moves quickly up and down on her several times. Then there is some moaning and panting and before she knows it, he has left the bedroom without looking back and she is alone again. She has understood from her maid that this is intended to conceive a child with her, but she is still not pregnant. She's not really sad about it.

She's thoughtlessly walked on and ends up at the back of the club. The trees here are quite close together, a vague path meanders between them. She follows it for a while until she suddenly hears a sound, it seems like twigs creaking and something else, it sounds like a giggle. Then suddenly she finds herself at the edge of a small clearing, in front of her she sees two rather plump women. They are standing close together, a brunette and a blonde. The blonde pushes the brunette against a tree trunk and starts kissing her, meanwhile her hands are groping all over her body. Isolde holds her breath, what is she looking at? She quickly, without making a sound, takes a step back and continues to watch, fascinated.

The brunette returns the kiss, moans of pleasure escape her. Isolde sees that one of her hands disappears behind the blonde's back, she grabs one of her buttocks. The blonde laughs and pushes her partner away from her, she begins to undo the front closure of her friend's dress, the brunette pushes her chest forward willingly, a happy smile on her freckled face. The blonde slides the top of the other woman's dress off her shoulders and then undoes the corset that appears underneath. Two beautiful, white, full breasts appear. The blonde bends over and takes a perky protruding nipple in her mouth, the brunette moans excitedly. Isolde feels it getting wet between her legs, she is shocked, has she just peed her pants? But she ignores it, she can't take her eyes off the couple, a strange sensation goes through her body, she can't explain it, but she feels her blood rushing.

The brunette now pulls her friend back up and starts stripping her of her clothes. Meanwhile, the ladies lose themselves in a fierce French kiss. Then Isolde sees the brown-haired woman put her hand between the legs of the now naked blonde and move it up and down, the blonde starts to squirm and let out small screams. Isolde feels another shot of moisture flowing into her underpants, she feels light-headed for a moment and has to hold on to a branch. The branch breaks off with a sharp sound, the ladies look up in shock. When they see her standing there they laugh for a moment, the brunette winks at her and then, without paying any further attention to her presence, continues to finger her friend. The ladies seem to find a spectator exciting.

Isolde takes a step back, embarrassed, she loses her balance for a moment and then feels two strong arms grab her waist. She immediately stands still, tense as a straw, what's happening now?

'Shhh, calm down, I won't hurt you,' she hears a deep, but pleasant voice whisper in her ear. 'Isn't it a beautiful sight?' She nods involuntarily, the voice continues, 'They come here every afternoon to spend their break, and as long as you leave them alone, they like viewers quite a bit.' He chuckles a little, 'and I like to watch, you seem too.'

Now she turns her head, she recognizes the man from the club. 'You,' she says in surprise, and instead of feeling the need to run like hell and get herself to safety, she feels inexplicably comfortable. The spark from earlier is still there, she looks mesmerized at his beautiful, deep blue eyes with the full, black eyelashes and characterful, cheerful face. How old would he be, she wonders, 28, 30?

'I saw you heading this way, and since it's a dead end and you didn't come back, I thought I'd check if something bad might have happened to you. But anything but, I see,' he grins and looks at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

She blushes, it looks so sweet that he can't control himself. He takes her face in his hands and kisses her soft red lips. He feels her return the kiss and he pulls her tight against him, she feels his tongue slide into her mouth.

Isolde feels an unprecedented excitement flow through her body, she wraps her arms around his neck and grabs his black curls. This sensation is new, it feels like she is floating, her whole body is tingling, she can't get away from this man. Jonathan notices she's getting aroused, he himself has a solid erection from the moment he saw her standing between the trees, watching the two frisky barmaids, clearly fascinated by the sight. He pulls the hat pin out of her hat, and gently takes it from her curls. Isolde removes a few hairpins and shakes out her curls, a shy but seductive smile on her lips. Jonathan moans a little, she looks even sexier than before.

He takes her cloak off her shoulders and hangs it on a tree branch, then begins to undo the countless buttons on her dress. She holds her breath, it is tensive and enjoyable at the same time, she has forgotten everything around her for a moment. He slides the top of her dress down over her shoulders, what beautiful delicate white skin, he thinks admiringly, that bastard she married does not deserve such exquisite beauty. The corset under the dress also has to give way, he undoes the hooks, unfolds it and takes her small but beautiful, white breasts in his hands and starts to caress them gently. She feels a tingle shoot from her nipples to her crotch. She subconsciously knows that what is happening here is wrong, but she doesn't care, she finally feels alive again.

Her hands go to his outer clothing, she has an irrepressible need to feel his naked skin. He helps her untie the buttons, and a moment later she stares in awe at his muscular arms and bare chest, broad, sinewy and partly covered in black hair. She has never seen a naked male upper body, her husband doesn't bother to strip completely when he uses her, it's almost like he's ashamed of his body. Jonathan sees her admiring look and has to laugh. He takes her hands and places them on his chest, she caressingly strokes his chest and his stomach, then she looks at him, a look of pleasure in her eyes. He lets her go ahead for a moment but now moves his hands to her hips and slides the dress further down, revealing a pair of knickers with long lace-lined legs. He squats down and slides the knickers off her buttocks. She lets out a surprised squeal as he kisses her pussy lips. Then suddenly she feels a rush of energy go through her body, his tongue has begun to massage her clit, with quick, routine movements. She has no idea what is happening, but she does know that it is very pleasant and that it never has to end as far as she is concerned.

She can barely stand on her feet; he feels her wobble and grabs her firmly by the hips. The moisture now drips down her legs in small streams, he enjoys the wonderful, exciting scent it spreads. He keeps licking her for a long time, now and then changing the pace a bit, her clit is nice and stiff and tastes great. Isolde immensely enjoys all the little shocks that flow through her body like mini electric shocks, she has never felt anything like this before, but something so wonderful must be a good thing, she thinks delighted, it can never be sinful.

She's close to her climax, he notices, and he pulls back and stands up. She looks a little disappointed when he stands in front of her again, but he has other plans. He looks at her with a teasing smile and then takes her hand and motions for her to unbutton his pants. She lets out a gasp of disbelief as she sees what emerges, accustomed as she is to seeing a small, stiff sausage over hairy, pale thighs, the only bit of nude she sees from her husband.

Jonathan chuckles happily, takes her hand again, and puts it on his rock-hard cock. She doesn't dare do anything for a moment, but then she starts feeling it anyway, stroking it, caressing his almost purple colored glans, unbelievable, how silky smooth it feels, she thinks in surprise.

Jonathan stiffens and lets out a deep growl. 'Just grab it tightly,' he whispers hoarsely, 'like this,' he closes his hand around hers. She looks at him with her mouth open, a mischievous look on her face.

'And now slowly move your hand up and down,' Jonathan whispers, his eyes half closed, 'oh yes, that's it,' he moans with pleasure. Isolde is enraptured even more, she now smells the musky scent of the excited Jonathan, and again feels her pussy getting wet, her clit tingling. Then she feels that Jonathan releases her hand from his dick, he is having trouble controlling himself, time for the grande finale. He takes her face in his hands, kisses her lips tenderly, looks deep into her mesmerizing green eyes, then turns her back to him. Isolde willingly lets him, so far nothing has happened that she has not thoroughly enjoyed.

She feels him gently unfold her pussy lips and slide a finger inside her, and then she feels something much bigger and thicker slide in, she moans a little and feels him slowly slide his cock up and down inside her, deeper and deeper, his hands on her hips. She leans against him on shaky legs and then she feels him move his left hand to her lower body, he finds her clit with his finger and gently rubs it. She notices her button getting stiff, it elicits little squeals of pleasure from her. Again, she feels the blissful shocks go through her abdomen, her fingers and toes start to tingle.

He now starts to fuck her harder, he moans softly and whispers unintelligible words in her ear. Her excitement grows, and then something miraculous happens, her body begins to shake, it seems that everything around her disappears in a pinkish cloud. Everything in her body is under a wonderful, heavenly tension, waves of bliss continuously following up on each other, she feels the need to cry out with pleasure. Fortunately, there is still a small piece of her brain that is on safe mode, so the only sound she actually makes is some soft moans and panting cries. But these cries make Jonathan lose his control, combined with the wonderful writhing body that he holds in his arms. And he cums with violent jerks, shooting his cum deep into her warm, moist pussy.

Completely satisfied, they lean against each other, he holds her tight. The barmaids have long since left, back to work, to please dirty old men with too much money, thememory of the daily pleasant encounters in the woods making them able to pull them through.

When they start to cool down a bit too much, they help each other get dressed again. Jonathan lays his coat on the floor in front of them and they sit close together for a while, talking about their lives. Isolde tells him about her loveless, forced marriage and the trapped feeling she has, the empty days. And how she misses her parental home, the carefree, never boring life she enjoyed. Jonathan talks about his urge to move to the big city, only to discover that things are worse rather than better there.

'If I could, I'd take you back north,' he says, which is where he's from. 'I can go back to work with my father on the farm any day, and there's room for you too.'

She wished it were possible, but alas, her husband would never approve, he considers her his property, she has no rights, her role is to obey, lie ready and bear children...

Reluctantly they say goodbye to each other.

'If you ever need help or are in trouble,' he assures her, 'anything at all, you know where to find me.' She nods. She gives him a quick kiss on his cheek, she has to hurry, otherwise she won't be back in her cage before her husband comes home. And then she'll definitely be in trouble.

Two weeks have passed. Jonathan sees her coming from afar, she seems to be walking with difficulty. She passes him without looking at him and disappears into the park. He quickly looks around and then goes after her, something is seriously wrong, that's clear to him. In the clearing she halts and waits for him. She stands in front of him, hands him her cloak, allowing him to see the bare skin of her neck and arms.

Her chest and upper arms are covered in bruises. A look of horror, turning into blind rage, crosses Jonathan's face.

'What happened?!' he asks in a hoarse voice.

'He threw a tantrum,' she says in a low voice and a straight face. Jonathan looks at her with a look full of pity and impotent anger. 'He got angry. Because I'm still not pregnant.' It comes out measured. She doesn't understand, it seems to be her fault somehow, but she is not aware of anything she would've done wrong.

'That's the end of it, the bastard,' he says fiercely, 'I'll...'

'No, don't,' she says quickly, 'that won't solve anything, it will only make things worse and I'll lose the only friend I have.'

'You're right,' he sighs, the anger ebbs away, reason returns. He thinks for a moment. 'Would you like to go north with me?' he then asks, 'to my childhood home that I told you about?' She nods, she was hoping he would suggest that, if at all possible, she never wants to go back to that brute.

'Okay, this is what we'll do. I'll take you to Betty and Vicky, the barmaids at the club, they'll hide you until my shift is over and I can collect my things. Then I'll come get you, okay?'

She nods again, relieved. No doubt her husband will come after her, but with a good head start they should have a chance, he has to find out where she went first anyway, and no one connects her to Jonathan.

Another two weeks later, Isolde and Jonathan are sitting on a bench in front of his parents' farm, enjoying a beautiful sunset. The news has just reached them that two days after her flight, during a quarrel in the men's club that he himself started, Isolde's husband fell with his head against a marble pillar in the ensuing scuffle, he died on the spot.

A week earlier, Isolde managed to inform her parents that she is safe, without disclosing her whereabouts, by the way, she never, ever wants to go back, to be subsequently forced into a new unwanted marriage.

Because although it goes without saying that there's hard work to be done to keep the farm running, she really likes the simple life with Jonathan, especially the fun they have together in the box bed. Or in the occasional haystack. And it is certainly never boring.