Mark awoke the next morning, he could still feel a tingling in his balls. His hand gently fanned the bedclothes as his moved to stroke himself and in so doing wafted the aroma of Clarissa's pussy past his nostrils quickly bringing his cock to firmness.
So it was not a dream and to prove it to himself he brought his hand to his face for a draft of the intoxicating smell of passion. As he considered reliving last night's initiation whilst having a long slow wank, he noticed the time.
His euphoria was interrupted by habit, it had gone 8 o'clock, he was late, he should be dressed, he should be on his way, he should......
Mark jumped out of bed, his long and now slightly softening cock bouncing from side to side and he crossed the room the wardrobe. As he open the wardrobe door he could clearly here the dulcet tones of Lady Clarissa mixed with Silas' slight west country burr, this was enough to stop him in his tracks.
As he closed and then opened the wardrobe door their voices came and went, Mark resolved to investigate further once he had taken breakfast and checked the blacksmith's progress in re-shoeing his horse.
He dressed quickly, and made his way down into the parlour. As soon as he was he seated he was spotted by Sally, the serving girl, who came over smiling at him quizzically and took his order for a hearty breakfast of boiled eggs and pork chops.
She returned soon after with a steaming platter.
"How are you this morning Sir?" she said suggestively "I expect you slept well after a hard day" he was sure she had emphasised the ‘hard'. Then as she turned and left him she said, with a titter.
"I don't know why a fine gentleman like you should need any help, I expect there's plenty of fine girls round here who help you for free".
Mark was both embarrassed and puzzled, as well as a little flattered by her flirting, but how could she know, as she obviously did, what he had been up to last night, what did she mean about getting help for free?
As Mark tucked into his breakfast he was too pleased with himself at the feeling of now being a ‘real man' to worry any more. With the egg and chops dispatched he left the inn and walked across the green to the blacksmith's yard to find out when his horse would be re-shoed. The blacksmiths shop was deserted, the hearth was cold and there was no sign of the blacksmith. A young apprentice waved him towards his horse stabled in the yard.
Mark was unable to establish where the blacksmith was or when he might return. He resigned himself to having to wait at least another couple of days, his concern at what his employer Mr Brunel might make of this delay was quickly assuaged by the opportunity to spend more time in the company of Lady Clarissa and resolve the mystery of why the inn staff referred to her as ‘Mistress Mountshaft'.
Lady Clarissa was gently woken by Silas proffering a cup of hot chocolate. Silas came for her Ladyship at 9 o'clock, but if the truth be known Silas had already cum for Lady Clarissa about an hour or so earlier whilst lying in his bed in the servants' quarters. In fact this morning's wank was enhanced by the recall of his attentions to his mistress's pussy after completing his mowing duties the previous evening.
He had added to this memory by imagining that his mistress was not married to Sir Neville Needham, but to him and that she could reveal her true feelings toward him. He replayed the sensations of his tongue traversing her succulent pussy, and nibbling at her proud clit.
This time, in his fantasy, instead of running his fine cock between her pussy lips and spurting onto to her belly, he followed her urging to drive it deep inside her welcoming quim. He had erupted in a fountain of spunk as he imagined her declaring her everlasting passion for him.
After he had wiped the creamy fluid from his chin and off his chest and stomach, Silas had consoled himself with the thought that half a meal was better than no meal at all. Anyway without him who else was going to safeguard and protect her whilst she pleasured herself of her gentle and not so gentle-men friends, and with these thoughts he continued in his duties in readying his mistress for her morning engagements.
As Clarissa quietly sipped her hot drink, Silas selected her apparel from the travelling chest and laid then out along the bottom of her four poster bed. There was no need to speak, it was a daily routine, varying only with the particular selection of clothing to suit her engagements, each was caught up in their own private thoughts.
Lady Clarissa, while not completely putting last night's little dalliance from her mind, was concentrating more on her morning engagement, indeed she had been anticipating this for some weeks, savouring the anticipation, considering nuances of expression, and teasing movements and poses she might strike later on that morning.
For his part, Silas felt the usual mix of excitement, tingled with jealousy, topped with the hint a satisfaction in the knowledge that he could match or better any of her acquaintances in most respects except wealth, but then such is the vanity of men.
At a little after 10 o'clock while Silas was stoking the fire in sitting room, there came a firm knock upon the door, Silas opened the door to a tall broad man in a long cloak, collar turned up and with a wide brimmed hat.
"Ah well done there my man..." the newcomer stepped into the room without waiting for Silas to say anything, he had the manner and posture of a man used to doing much as he pleased.
He handed his hat to Silas and unclasped his cloak, Silas waited and then helped the cloak off his shoulders.
"Good morning, Sir Jasper, I shall tell Mistress that you have arrived"
"Ah yes, err there's a good chap" Sir Jasper's voice matched his presence, he stood at least 6' 2", with a ruddy complexion, a few broken veins suggested he had spent some few years indulging himself in good food and good wine, the form outlined in his breeches however indicated that he did not lead a sedentary lifestyle, and though broad he was still capable of turning a lady's eye.
He had sharp green eyes, wavy brown hair and a prominent nose, which might turn fleshy as the year progressed, and a dimpled chin. His hands were broad but the fingers had remained slender unsullied by any sort of manual labour, he used a well manicured finger nail to flick open the timepiece he had taken from his embroidered waistcoat pocket. He held himself with assurance and had a twinkle in his eye to match a silvered tongue which he used to good effect upon the attached and un-attached ladies of the county.
