Note- This story is totally fiction and any resemblance to actual persons is purely coincidental.
xxx
Emma was pleasantly surprised to have received an email from her newest friend, Kaley Cuoco. On her Galaxy Tablet the brief message had an attachment which Kaley described as her first published story on a website for erotic fiction known as Literotica.com. Apparently stuck in bed with a broken leg the celebrated television actress had taken to creative writing to relieve the boredom. The story had been submitted three times before it had been accepted, one time because she had misspelled propel with two l's instead of one! Most frustrating. The editors were quite picky with their rules of submission. Emma read the story and then gazed out of the window of her London home deep in thought.
"Most interesting." She mused.
The young and successful movie actress had a rather keen interest in researching the advancement of female sexual pleasure, and was constantly browsing the internet for new and exciting ideas. After an afternoon of online research she felt she had an idea of her own for an erotic story she would attempt to publish. A classic historical bodice ripper.
x
'Torn between two lovers.'
London, 1810.
The Regency age in Great Britain was considered to extend from 1800 to 1830. George, the Prince of Wales, ruled the kingdom while his father, King George III was unwell and unfit to rule. Famous names such as Wellington, Byron, Wordsworth and Constable were popular in society, the upper class that is, which flourished despite the war with Napoleon.
Lady Emma Watson had been instructed by her impatient father, the Earl of Barrymore, that she must be betrothed and married before the end of the year. If not, he would choose her suitor for her, and he had a horrid choice in mind. None other than the obese and flatulent Duke of Meckleburg in Germany.
She herself, only twenty one years of age, had two better options in mind. The first being George Cayton, son of Sir George Cayton the 6th Baronet, a gentle soul keen on engineering. The other candidate was a tall fellow of some twenty seven years and considered by many to be a rake. Radcliffe was heavily in debt due to his gambling and womanising, he desperately needed to marry into money, and quickly. The soon to be wealthy Emma was torn between the two radically different gentlemen. One, a kind and shy man with good intentions and love to offer, and the other, a carefree aristocrat who was considered to be the best lover in England. Blessed as he was with an enviable large penis.
"Good morning, Lady Emma, your visitor waits without."
The stiff backed footman handed the patient Emma a silver tray with a calling card. She had been expecting George to visit that rainy afternoon and had heard his horse drawn carriage arrive outside the family manor in Cheltenham Spa. The elegant and tiny woman, barely five feet four in flat pumps, stood and awaited him and fussed with her long hair. She had chosen her primrose full length dress with the low and round neckline edged in lace. The short puffed shoulders and shaped bust ensured she exuded a daring sensuous allure.
"Pray, send him hither, Potter." The elderly man stooped slightly in acknowledgement.
Emma paced across the drawing room and paused by the large portrait of her father that hung over the mantle shelf. Then she whirled around as George Cayton stood in the doorway. The epitome of the stylish man about town, the well dressed young gentleman gazed at Emma with clear blue eyes. His fair hair was immaculately groomed and he stood in a single breasted tailcoat over a white muslin shirt. His breeches looked quite snug around the privates and Emma could have no doubt that he dressed to the left.
"Your obedient servant, my Lady. Simply wonderful to see you once more, my dear, dear Emma. The occasion of the grand ball will forever be etched in my mind."
He bowed low and gave his radiant smile that had endeared him to her the first time they had met. Indeed that evening, a month ago had seen them dance all evening, oblivious to anyone else on the crowded ballroom, caught up in the music and gaiety. Fatigued, they had ended up on the veranda where the young couple had enjoyed a delightful half hour in each others arms embraced in slow, melting kisses.
"Drink George?"
He made haste and joined her and kissed the back of her right hand tenderly. Emma went to the drinks table and poured him a glass of port from a crystal decanter.
"It's a little early perhaps but just this once if you would be so kind."
They settled side by side on an upholstered sofa and he bade her good health as he drank his wine. George bent closer to his intended and breathed in her floral scent deeply. Emma sat composed in a graceful manner as he admired her enchanting looks. She had come to bed eyes of light brown with heavy lids and perfect brows in groomed arcs. She looked back at him with a smile of an angel and crossed her hands in her lap.
"My dearest Emma, I have grown very fond of you these last few weeks and I humbly request that I ask your father for your hand in marriage."
Emma smiled politely and swept a coil of brown hair from the pale nape of her slender neck.
"I'm most grateful for your kind offer, George. It is true that my father does desire some urgency in my being engaged to be sure."
Emma studied his face as he spoke. The man was handsome in an understated way, and well mannered to say the least. She tried hard not to show any signs of apprehension on her face as she listened to him describe his considerable prosperity and assets. But the question that burned deep in her heart was how was he in the important matter of sexual prowess. She was young and possessed a healthy interest in all things of a carnal knowledge.
"May I be so bold as to ask you how many women you have invited into your bed?"
George was taken aback slightly at the very notion of such a personal question and became speechless for several moments.
"The reason I ask is that I am very much a tactile woman and enjoy the pleasures of the flesh. My fingers found my sex all by themselves when I was younger and I have never looked back."
"My Lady...I."
"Come George, I am no blushing virgin I assure you. I have no desire to be frustrated in the bedroom for the duration of my marriage."
With an unhidden wanton haste, Emma leaned to the surprised suitor and kissed him hard on the mouth, a persuasive pressure of her lips on his. In an instant his erection began to swell in his breeches and he fidgeted on the seat nervously. A light sweat broke on his brow and his pulse raced at the suggestive behaviour of the young woman.
"You are singularly flirty this morn and no mistake."
"Flirty be damned, I crave your sword my good man, and this very day."
George realised this young woman was a rare sort indeed, refined, sophisticated and passionate about the bedroom. If there was another combination of beauty and lack of chastity in a woman he was unaware of it. This was a ripe young thing to be in love with and to make love with, and a more suitable bride would be hard to find.
"There is no other in the house today, only Potter and he will pay us no heed until I wish him to. My bedchamber is just upstairs. George, will you join me?"
Emma stood and held out her hands to him.
"My Lady, it would be my pleasure to do so." He took her hands in his eagerly.
